There Is No Future Without You
by Phoenix089
Summary: Charles and Erik were friends when they were children - Until circumstances tore them apart. Many years later, they unexpectedly meet again at Oxford university, and nothing could have prepared Erik for everything that follows. Modern AU. XMFC-Verse
1. Whoever said being a kid was easy?

First of all, I need to make this clear - The way that Charles and Erik are in this is based on the Charles and Erik from X-Men: First Class. So, when Erik and Charles are older, it's the Michael Fassbender, and James McAvoy version of them I was aiming for. Also, this fic was very heavily inspired by this fanart that a good friend did for me.

**Warnings:** Love of the homosexual nature. Implications of sexual situations. Oh, and swearing.

... None of which actually come into play in this chapter, but ... Just as a heads up for later chapters.

And now that all that's out of the way - I hope you enjoy the chapter!

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><p>At the age of five, the course of Erik Lensherr's life changed drastically – And not only because his mother had come to the conclusion that they should move to America. Although that <em>was<em> a large part of what brought about the change, it was not the majoring factor that decided Erik's future.

When Erik first moved to New York, he absolutely _loathed_ it – The other kids at school avoided him because of his accent, and the fact that he could only speak broken English didn't help. Not that Erik cared about that because he just found the other children annoying, it simply frustrated him that he could hardly understand the teacher. The sole comfort to him then, was that he felt … Stronger, somehow, here in New York. It wasn't until Erik turned seven that he realised the reason for this was because of his mutation.

Later in life, if he was asked when his mutation first revealed itself, Erik would say that he couldn't remember. Which was a complete and utter lie – He remembered it well. He could recall with uncanny accuracy the way he felt as he stopped the pen that had been thrown at him in midair, before turning it over and hurling it back at that annoying Jessie guy, all with instinctual twitches of his fingers. And he could just as easily recall the mix of horrified and startled expressions on his classmates faces as they realised what he'd done. Erik could even remember sighing as he realised it was just another thing his schoolmates would avoid him for, a sigh that had turned into a groan as he considered what his mother's reaction was going to be.

Erik certainly hadn't expected she'd simply smile fondly at him, ruffle his hair and tell him that she knew he was special before returning to the dishes. He also hadn't expected to be pulled out of regular classes and placed into a class for "gifted individuals", which was simply the politically-correct way of saying "The class for those mutants we don't want mixing with the other children".

He could never have known then that moving into that classroom would be what set the path at his feet. Or, rather, would bring him to meeting the person who would play a major role in shaping his future.

~X~

When Erik came to stand in front of the door of his new classroom, he could positively feel his heart beating in his chest as if he were the new, foreign boy all over again, and the only thing offering him some scrap of calm was the coin he had buried in his pocket.

He took a moment to stuff his hand in his pocket and clasp the coin tightly – To some, it might have seemed strange, to be taking comfort in an unfeeling metal. But, as Erik found out just yesterday, perhaps it was the fact that it _was _metal that it calmed him.

Scowling at the door before him, Erik made no move to open it. He knew what they called this class through the rest of the school – The Freak room. And while that in itself didn't bother him, he was sure that inside this room would be the same annoying class mates as before, the same kind of people who would look at him as if he were a mouse or cockroach or something equally unpleasant, all because he still had a slight accent despite having lived in America for two years. It was irritating, the way they all stared and whispered behind their hands when they noticed him, as if they thought he couldn't understand what they were saying.

For half a second, Erik considered simply walking back out the school and demanding to return to Germany. Just as his feet began to shift so that he could turn and walk away however, the door was pulled open and Erik was met by a girl, her mouth pulled into an uncertain frown as she looked up at him, a strange defiance in her stance despite the fact that she was clearly a few years younger than Erik.

And then Erik blinked with surprise as her skin suddenly shimmered before turning blue, and the blonde hair shifted to red. "What do _you _want?" she asked him, her yellow, reptilian eyes looking at him suspiciously.

"Raven!" an adult's voice admonished, a hint of exasperation in the tone, "That isn't how we answer the door!"

Raven paused to glare at Erik once more with suspicion before she turned and retreated back into the room. Erik barely even had time to realise that someone had just drastically changed colour before his eyes, before the door was pulled open to reveal the tall figure of who Erik presumed to be the teacher, and his chance for escape had eluded him.

"Ah," the teacher hummed as she looked down at Erik with a kind face. He simply scowled up at her, lamenting the fact that now he had no choice but to go into the room and deal with the fact that he was in New York instead of in Germany as he should be. "You must be the new student," she said with a smile, "Erik, right?"

"Yes," Erik grunted.

"Pleasure to meet you Erik, I'm Miss Harlow. Don't be shy now, I'm sure the other kids are looking forward to meeting you."

_I highly doubt that, _Erik thought sourly as Miss Harlow stepped aside and ushered Erik in the room. The door closed with an ominous, clear, _click_, and Erik had to struggle to not audibly sigh.

"The other teachers tell me you didn't show any reason to be in here before yesterday, is that correct?"

Surveying the room with inevitable curiosity, Erik simply nodded at the teacher as she prattled away, asking him inane questions like _Did you bring along your books? Did you remember to tell your mother about the change of class? Mr Clarke tells me that your favourite classes were Maths and Science, is that right?_

Erik watched with vague interest as Raven sat on a multi-coloured matt, her face screwed up with concentration as she attempted to change her skin tone to suit the matt beneath her. There was an older looking boy curled up in the corner of the room with a book in hand, his bright-red skin clashing horribly with the mustard yellow of the chair. Erik didn't even notice he had a tail until he used it to turn the page. By the toy shelves, there were two smaller boys wrestling over some toy or another. One boy hurriedly clasped his hands over his ears when the other let loose a shrill noise that made Erik flinch.

"As you can see, things are slightly more hectic in here than you might be used to," Miss Harlow said to Erik, the corners of her mouth twitching. With frustration or bemusement, Erik couldn't tell. "And with that, sit wherever you'd like Erik. We'll begin maths shortly, I think –" Suddenly the young teacher stopped talking in a soft voice to Erik and suddenly yelled out "Sean! Give Alex that bear right now! We _don't _want another accident like last week!"

Erik made his way through the desks uncertainly as the two wrestling boys suddenly stopped and the one with dark brown hair pouted profusely before relinquishing the stuffed bear that he'd been trying to claim. The Sandy-haired one grinned widely before pointedly saying "Ha-Ha!", which simply made the darker haired boy open his mouth and begin to wail in that high-pitched keening noise again, forcing Erik to wince. He certainly hoped he wasn't that irritating at that age.

Sighing softly to himself as he threw his bag atop one of the desks not already taken, Erik busied himself with pulling out his books and arranging his desk. As he pulled out his pencil case, he couldn't help but wonder how Miss Harlow was going to be able to teach them, considering there were students from all ages in the room.

A quick glance around made Erik believe that the red-tailed boy was the eldest, while the boys that had been fighting over the toy might be the youngest.

Erik was pulled from his musing as a tentative, but sure, voice spoke to him though. Already annoyed about the change in routine, Erik turned his head to glare at the speaker, but found himself momentarily stunned by the big, bright blue eyes that met his, before realising that the words the boy spoke to him should have surprised him more than his eye colour.

"Guten Tag," the blue eyed boy repeated, his eyebrows pulling together with uncertainty. "Was that correct? Guten Tag? I'm afraid I don't know German at _all_, but that seemed to be the right thing to say."

Erik simply blinked at the boy slowly, trying to decide how he should be reacting. On the one hand, he was stunned that someone was greeting him in his home-language, but it was by a boy who appeared to be five years old who then went on to say that he didn't even know German. And Erik certainly hadn't spoken to the boy yet for him to know about his accent, so how did he even know about Erik's background?

Quite suddenly, the boy smiled sheepishly at Erik, confusing him even more, "I'm sorry. Papa always tells me I shouldn't look into people's minds without their knowledge, he says it frightens them when I talk about things I shouldn't even know yet. You just think so loudly though, I couldn't help it. My name's Charles, by the way, Charles Xavier, and I'm a telepath," he finished with a proud grin that Erik couldn't help but return, albeit more uncertainly.

"Erik Lensherr," he said, and Charles' eyes lit up even more than they already were at the sound of his voice. _Oh, here we go,_ Erik sighed mentally and waited for the question – 'Why do you speak like that?' He can't count the amount of times someone has asked him and –

"I know," Charles told him with an amused smile, before frowning slightly and adding, "and I _like_ your accent. The other kids are just jealous of it, you know. It makes you interesting."

Once again, all Erik seemed to be able to do was sit there and blink with surprise at the words pouring from Charles' mouth. He didn't _sound_ like a five year old, and more to the point –

"_Telepath_," Charles repeated, with a slight pout this time, "It means I can read people's minds … I suppose it also means that my speech is advanced or something? Papa says it's just because I'm clever, but –"

"Charles, do you shut up?" Erik asked, completely unable to help himself. He had known the boy for a mere five minutes, and in that time Charles had spoken to him more than any of his previous class' classmates. It was unnerving.

Charles simply laughed delightedly at Erik's words, before smiling with more mischief to his grin than a five year old should. "Sometimes," he answered, and Erik fought the want to groan. He just had to choose the seat next to the class' chatterbox didn't he?

"Oh! _I'm_ not the chatterbox! You should _hear_ Alex. Hank's pretty bad when it comes to science too – Of course, he's a lot older than you or I, he's turning ten soon. And then there's Azazel-"

Erik was caught somewhere between listening to Charles' rambling with amusement, and wanting to beat his head repeatedly against his desk.

~X~

After having been in the Mutant-Class for a few weeks, Erik was mildly surprised to realise that, aside from the class being disrupted by Alex suddenly letting loose a plasma blast – Something that Charles would yell "Duck!" to seconds before it happened - or Sean screaming a little too loudly and cracking the windows, or by the diverse range in ages, it was really no different to the other class' he'd been in. They were even ushered out of the classroom for sports every Thursday afternoon, although Erik couldn't help but notice that they were kept away from the 'regular' kids.

It annoyed him that they had to be kept separate. He didn't see any reason for it – Having extra abilities didn't mean they loved to play dodgeball any less. But Erik had seen the looks the other kids gave his new classmates – They were afraid, and not sure how to react to any of them. Even with the mutants who's powers weren't obvious, the school knew they were in the "Special" class, and instantly labelled them as someone to be avoided.

"You shouldn't let it worry you so much Erik," Charles sighed softly as he fell to the grass beside Erik, apparently deciding he didn't want to play Dodgeball today.

"Can't help it," Erik replied, not even bothering to pretend to be frustrated by Charles listening in to his thoughts anymore. He'd come to realise that regardless of whether Erik wanted him to or not, Charles pointedly refuses to accept that Erik's thoughts are meant to be private. "It's stupid."

"Perhaps, but people always find it difficult to accept something that's different."

Erik simply sighed and reclined back on the grass, deciding it simply wasn't worth arguing with Charles. He had a tendency to cheat and call you out when you lied.

"I do _not_!" Charles growled in response, folding his arms and heaving his breath out in a loud huff. Erik could all too easily imagine the pout on his face too, and he failed dismally at not smiling in amusement at the younger boy's antics.

"Shut _up _Erik!"

Erik would have apologised for being amused at Charles' expense … But he enjoyed it entirely too much to feel genuinely sorry for it, and Charles clearly knew that. Which was why, two seconds later, the wind was knocked from Erik's lungs as Charles lunged at him, repeating "Apologise! Apologise!" over and over, while Erik simply laughed harder as he fought off Charles flailing fists.

~X~

Although he still disliked New York, Erik found that he didn't hate school as much anymore. In fact, he even found that he enjoyed having discussions with Hank about Science, and he rather enjoyed Azazel's company.

Then there was Charles of course, and Erik supposed he could say Charles was the reason why going to school didn't suck so much anymore. It _was_ Charles he spent most of his time with, after all, and he apparently spoke enough about the younger boy that his mother had said she wants to meet his new friend. It surprised Erik at first to hear Charles referred to as his friend, but as he'd thought about it that night, he supposed Charles _was_– It was certainly Charles he first greeted of a morning, and Charles he normally spoke to about homework if there was something he couldn't quite figure out on his own.

That didn't mean that Erik liked the rest of the school yet though. Even in his own class he still had little patience for either Sean or Alex, and the extent of his interaction with Raven was for her to glare at him for unknown reasons before she went back to whatever she was doing. And it still annoyed him to no end that the general population of the school they went to avoided him and the other kids, but he certainly didn't dread waking up of a morning anywhere near as much as he used to.

Out of the entire school though, there was one person that Erik decided he simply did not like in the slightest. Moira MacTaggert. She was the only normal student who actually associated herself with those in the Mutant class, and it made Erik's blood boil every time he saw her playing with Charles.

He supposed it was strange, because he didn't care if she played with Raven or Hank or any of the others, but the very second Moira found Charles in the playground, Erik's scowl would deepen, and he would storm off to the library to find something decent he hadn't already read.

Charles would always look at him with confusion when they came back from lunch on days he did this, sometimes earnestly asking him why he didn't like Moira.

"She's really interesting! And she doesn't care that we're mutants at all! _I _like her," Charles would say, his eyes wide and confused, his mouth pulled into a frown so deep Erik wanted to tug the corners up. Instead, he would make a point to ignore Charles for the rest of the day when he was foolish enough to say this.

By the end of the day though, Charles' eyes would be brimming with unshed tears and Erik would cave and pull Charles into a hug, the younger boy's head instantly ramming itself into Erik's chest as he ground out things like "Stupid Erik! Can't understand you at _all_. Thought you were mad at me! Don't do that again! I hate it when you don't talk to me! Can't even read your mind when you're like that!"

What Charles never seemed to realise was that it was normally just as Moira was within eyeshot that Erik would pull Charles to him, glaring at Moira as though she were trying to steal his prized coin collection.

The human would leave Charles alone for a few days after that, and Erik knew that if Charles ever caught him he'd be in trouble, but it gave him a few days where he didn't have to worry about someone stealing Charles away at least.

~X~

One thing Erik rather enjoyed was the walk home from school. Initially, it was simply because it meant he was finally going home and would soon be able to immerse himself in doing things he enjoyed - like practising his powers, or leafing through his science book.

He found another reason to enjoy the walk home from school though in the winter. Even though he'd been in the Mutant class for a good couple of months now, Erik had never taken the time to notice how his classmates went home. He was normally too busy thinking about what he was going to do when he got home to pay attention to what was going on around him, too busy wondering what Mama was going to be doing for dinner that night.

When Erik actually focused on the people walking around him for a change though, he instantly kicked himself for not paying more attention earlier. There, not three people in front of him, was the small form of Charles, walking home alone, and Erik couldn't help but frown at that.

It was fine for _him_ to walk home alone, _he_ was a big-boy. But Charles … He was small, so much so that even Sean and Alex were a little taller than him, though he was a year older than those two.

Biting his lip, Erik watched as Charles turned the corner, trying to make a decision. If he was home late, his Mama would surely scold him … But, as Erik came to the street Charles had turned down and realised he was walking completely alone down the snow-covered street, Erik didn't hesitate to run towards the younger boy, skidding a little in the snow as he called his name so he'd wait.

"Erik!" Charles said, his lips pulling into an overjoyed smile as he realised who was calling him. "What are you doing here? I didn't realise you lived this way."

"I don't, I live that way," Erik replied, pointing in the direction of his house, "But … Uh. That is…" Erik fumbled for words, unsure of what he was trying to say.

Charles simply cocked his head to the side, listening to the thoughts or feelings Erik couldn't articulate, before smiling softly at him, "I appreciate the thought Erik, but I'm perfectly fine walking home by myself."

Erik didn't bother saying anything to that, he simply stood next to Charles, waiting for him to continue walking. He didn't care if Charles thought he was fine walking alone, Erik just didn't feel it was _right _that he was walking by himself.

After a moment, Charles sighed and rolled his eyes before starting to walk again, Erik keeping pace beside him. They walked on in companionable silence for five houses, before Charles said softly, "Actually, I don't normally walk home, so it was a touch unnerving,"

For a moment, Erik was going to scoff and say something snarky about Charles' lack of height making him an easy target, but then he was distracted by the way Charles' hands were holding onto the straps of his bags. His bare hands, and it had been snowing for the last hour. Erik's mouth instantly pulled into a frown.

"Where are your mittens Charles?" the question fell from his lips before he even had a chance to realise what he was about to ask.

Charles instantly looked over at him like a child who'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but then his blue eyes iced over with mild defiance. "At home," he said simply, his eyes narrowed as he continued to look at Erik, "And while I appreciate the concern, you're not my mother Erik."

For a moment, Erik was taken aback by Charles' response, it was rare for Charles to be so … Cold to anyone, and Erik briefly wondered about Charles' home life. Erik knew that he was close to his father, but as he thought about it … He didn't hear him talk about his mother much. Erik's eyebrows knitted together with concern.

"Please don't – Don't worry Erik. It's nothing, truly," Charles sighed, and it didn't escape Erik's attention that Charles was still frowning, that there was something lingering behind his eyes, but decided it better not to ask.

Instead he tugged his mittens off his own hands and silently set about pulling them onto Charles', ignoring his startled "Erik, what -?" He barely even managed to get one partially on before Charles starting protesting.

"No. No! Absolutely not! Your hands will get cold if you do that!" Charles objected, trying to pull his hand free of Erik's grip and out of the mitten, his eyebrows furrowing together and creating a crease between in his irritation.

Erik simply sighed and was inclined to tell Charles to stop being so difficult, but the icy fire in his eyes made him think better of it. Instead, he said, "Fine. I'll wear one, and you wear the other."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Charles muttered, though he stopped resisting and allowed Erik to pull the mitten up on his hand – Though it was obviously too big for him. "Now we're both going to have a cold hand."

Without even thinking about it, Erik took hold of Charles' still bare hand with his own equally bare hand, and raised an eyebrow at the smaller boy, silently asking if he had any _more_ objections.

Charles shook his head, though the crease was still there on his brow and he was still pouting slightly as they continued to walk along the street.

From that day on, even when it wasn't winter and Charles stopped leaving his mittens at home, Erik walked him home, their hands still clasped as if they still needed the warmth.

~X~

The day after Erik's eighth birthday was decidedly the worst day of his life. It was even worse than moving to America, and that had been pretty high on the mantle of "Days that sucked".

The day after Erik's eighth birthday, Erik had actually been called out of class. The only other time that had happened had been the day Erik discovered his powers, and so he looked at Charles curiously to see if he could glean some idea about what it might be about.

He was slightly startled when he realised that Charles' mouth was slack with shock and he was trying his hardest not to meet Erik's eye, his eyes looking suspiciously watery. That was the first sign that whatever he was being called into the principal's office for was _not_ good news.

Never had he imagined exactly how bad that news was though.

"We – We're _so _sorry Mr. Lensherr but … The doctors say that there was nothing that could be done and -," Erik tuned it all out. Erik hardly even realised that Miss Harlow's hand was on his shoulder as though trying to offer some semblance of comfort to him.

The walk home that day he spent alone, having been sent home directly after the meeting with the principal, and Erik's feet had dragged the whole way, his greenish grey eyes darting all over the street trying to tell himself to wake up, because surely this was just a bad dream.

Still, when he came close to the apartment that was home and he saw the flashing lights, Erik's feet suddenly took off beneath him and he was running. Running towards those flashing lights, his mind still refusing to accept what they told him.  
>It wasn't until he pushed open the apartment door that wasn't locked and Erik saw the amount of police and officials that were standing around, taking photo's that Erik realised it was no lie. His mother had been murdered.<p>

He lost track of the next few hours – He slipped into a coma of sorts, his consciousness taking a life of its own. Some distant part of his mind remembered the police having to leave in a hurry because the cutlery had started flying around the apartment with a life of it's own, their guns pulled out of their holsters to join the sweeping, angry cloud of metal that was swirling around his body like a shield. Vaguely recalled them saying "We need someone to calm him down, but who?" and not caring - he was too busy screaming himself hoarse with his cries of heartache and anger. The neighbours had to leave, unable to stay in their apartments listening to the guttural sounds pulling themselves out of the child's throat, and equally unsettled by the fact that everything metal within the building was rattling angrily. He didn't even want to listen to the soothing voice in his mind that was murmuring '_Erik, Erik, you need to calm down. Erik, you need to calm your mind'_

It wasn't until the sky had turned dark, and his sobs had long ago faded into the occasional hiccups that Erik realised he could _feel_ Charles inside his mind, that it felt as though he were enveloped in someone's warm embrace, even though he was most definitely alone in the apartment.

Around the same time, Erik realised that he was acutely aware of each and every piece of metal within the room, as if it were also trying to find a way to comfort him.

_I'm sorry Erik. I am so, so sorry_, the voice of Charles was whispering, and Erik allowed the sound of it, and the warmth of Charles being there, in his mind, to lull him into an uneasy sleep.

The very next morning, Erik was shipped off to an Orphanage in Brooklyn, and he wasn't even given a chance to say goodbye to Charles, or the few friends he'd made. He was barely even given enough time to collect his belongings and say goodbye to the only place in this country that held memories of his mama.

In that moment, Erik wasn't sure who he hated more – The bastard who stole his mother from him, or the unfeeling police who simply saw him as another mutant child undeserving of any pity, despite the traumatic experience he'd just experienced.

As the police car pulled away from the apartment block, Erik thought he caught a flash of a small someone running towards the car, yelling out "Stop. Stop! Wait!", but then Erik had buried his head into the single duffel bag that now held his entire life, trying to fight off more tears.

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><p>I honestly did not want to do that to Erik ... But, it was necessary ;A;<br>Writing Charles and Erik was alot of fun though, even if it was a little difficult at times.

But, what did you think? Feedback is, of course, highly appreciated

By the way, this fic has, in fact, been completely written, and I plan to update with another chapter every few days =3


	2. Oxford life proves to be interesting

Thankyou so much to everyone who left reviews on the first chapter! It was wonderful to see such positive feedback - And, now, I can only hope that I manage to live up to everyone's hopes for this.

**Warnings:** Love of the homosexual nature. Implications of sexual situations. Oh, and swearing.

... The last of which _is_ relevant for this chapter.

And now that all that's out of the way - I hope you enjoy the chapter!

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><p>The next several years of Erik's life were, for lack of a better term, unremarkable. He was never adopted into a new family, and spent his years growing up in the Orphanage he'd been unceremoniously dumped at. He persevered with his education and majored in Electrical Theory – Something his teacher said he excelled at – As well as metal work, something he, admittedly, cheated in quite a lot considering his mutation. He enjoyed it all the same though, so he didn't care if he got filthy looks from his peers when he made use of his powers.<p>

At the age of Sixteen, Erik moved out of the orphanage and found a shabby, one bedroom apartment, and he started working part time at a questionable mechanic's to simply support himself. It was around that time that Erik's life took a decidedly darker turn.

There were a mere two other mutants at the high school Erik went to – Emma Frost, and Sebastian Shaw, and they were nothing like the Mutants that Erik remembered from back in New York. Erik might only have a vague impression of his time in New York now, buried under other memories and time as those days were, but the impression he had was of warmth and trying to co-habituate with the human population of the school. With Shaw and Frost, it was completely different. _They_ ruled the school, and the human's weren't simply wary of them because they 'didn't understand' – The Human's were actually _afraid_ of Frost and Shaw.

Erik had been hesitant to follow in their footsteps, he had a distinct impression that someone from his past with alarmingly blue eyes would surely be disappointed if he let himself walk that path, but Erik couldn't for the life of him remember if that impression was of an actual person, or just a figment of his childhood.

In the end, he allowed himself to be swept up in it all – allowed himself to develop a cold exterior that no one could break through. Allowed himself to become a predator, someone who was viewed as dangerous. He became someone who was volatile, who went out and got into drunken fights of a weekend. He, in essence, became Shaw's bodyguard – Not that Shaw needed one, he was dangerous in his own right, but Erik was given the role regardless.

And with time, Erik remembered less and less of the blue eyed boy from his childhood. His mind eventually stopped reminding him that 'he' would surely be disappointed if he could see him now – Erik stopped caring what this phantom from his past thought and allowed Shaw to make use of him, allowed him to help fine tune his powers to the point that Erik was quite possibly feared more than Shaw himself by the time he reached his Senior year.

Then, before long, it came time to apply for College's and although Erik hadn't given it any prior thought, considering Exams were in a week's time, his Electrical Theory Teacher pulled him aside after one lesson.

"Erik, you could have a future in this field, you and I both know you're a natural at it. Your course work has been brilliant." He paused, and then continued on in a rush, "Erik, I want you to consider applying for Oxford University. They provide the best course in Electrical Theory, and I'm sure anything else that you could possibly want."

"Oxford?" Erik repeated, sure he'd misunderstood the teacher. The balding man simply nodded. "That's in England."

"I know, I know. But … Well, consider it, won't you? I've already recommended you for a scholarship, and the professors were rather impressed with your work, so I'm fairly sure it's safe to say the option's there if you want it. They'd pay for you to fly over, and you'd have an on-campus dorm. You'd even get an allowance as long as you can maintain a respectable level of work and-"

"I'll do it," Erik cut across the teacher's rambling.

"Er- Well, there's no need to decide right now. You can think it through and make sure it's what you want…" The teacher silenced himself at Erik's quelling glare.

"I said I would do it," he repeated, silently thinking that it was a good opportunity to cut ties with Shaw and Frost. He'd run out of patience with them, and was tired of Shaw's attempts at trying to control him. No longer was he the easily moulded, impressionable freshman.

Less than 24 hours after his Exams finished, Erik had packed his life into a single suitcase, thrown out whatever he couldn't fit in that suitcase, and was sitting on a plane, making his way to England where a representative from Oxford University would meet him and escort him to the dorms.

How could he have known that what seemed like pure luck was in fact fate's way of setting him back on track for what she had planned for him?

~X~

Even before he set foot on campus, Erik felt ... Strange. It was like leaving the house and suspecting you'd left the oven on. There was some tickling feeling in the back of his mind that reminded him of something, something he couldn't put his finger on. And then, out of the blue, he had a memory – Or, he presumed it was a memory – of someone saying _'Oh, you don't remember. That's anticlimactic,' _in a voice that was achingly familiar, and then the feeling was completely gone.

Erik paid it little mind though, he was slightly more concerned with finding what dorm he was going to be living in for the next three years, at least, and whether his room mate was going to be tolerable at least.

He came to a stop in front of the room number scribbled onto the sheet of paper that irritating escort had given him – He'd been a _hummer_, so Erik had told him to just give him the map and leave his sight, or else he'd be one testicle less. Suffice to say the escort had paled considerably, thrown he paper work at Erik and all but scarpered away – and regarded the door with trepidation.

Generally speaking, he did _not_ get along with people well, and it was even worse if they were human. No matter how much he tried to stress it would be more beneficial for his future _roommate _that Erik be given his own room, the receptionist informed him that they were aware of his "special circumstances" and that a suitable arrangement was already in place. Erik was certain that his idea of a suitable arrangement, and the receptionist's would be completely different.

Fixing his fiercest scowl on his face so that his roommate would know not to even bother, Erik opened the door – rolling his eyes to himself at how simple locks were to manoeuvre – and stopped abruptly as he realised his roommate was in fact a man with the appearance of a hell-demon, complete with the thrashing tail.

The sight of the red skin brought something to mind, something elusive and he knew, he _knew_ that he knew this person – How many mutants did you meet with fire-red skin and a tail – But Erik simply couldn't place it. It was like trying to chase down the fragments of a fading dream.

"Hmm. It would appear he was right then. Pity," the red-mutant sighed, his golden gaze fixed on Erik as he stood there, hands stuffed into pockets as he wracked his brain for where he knew this mutant from. He didn't meet him through Shaw, of that he was certain, but then … Before? Erik couldn't recall. He'd made a point to forget the days with his mother.

And there was that feeling in the back of his mind again, a tickling like someone was sitting there with his consciousness, but the only Telepath that he'd known of was Emma, and she had a tendency to barge her way into Erik's mind when she saw fit, not flutter about unobtrusively. There was no way her power could stretch over continents, was there?

Belatedly, Erik realised he was still standing in the doorway staring curiously at the other mutant, so he made a point to walk in with his head held high, make it clear that he was not to be intimidated. He didn't care if this red-Mutant was older than he was, Erik was no push-over.

The Hell demon's lips twitched once before he rolled his eyes, "You honestly haven't changed," he muttered, and Erik arched his eyebrow curiously. So it wasn't his imagination then, this mutant _did_ know him.

"Forgive me. My name is Azazel, and you can take whichever bunk you want – I'm hardly ever here enough to care."

Erik's eyes narrowed slightly at the name, a brief, hazy image of a teleporting mutant coming to mind. An image that was closely followed by a bell-like laughter he felt like he _should _remember.

"I know you," Erik said slowly, cautiously, watching Azazel as he threw his bag up onto the lower bunk.

"Indeed, but it was a long time ago, I'm not surprised you don't remember me. _Him_ however -" and Erik watched as Azazel cut himself off abruptly, looking up at the roof as though he were deep in thought, and then he muttered, "Fool," under his breath. Had Erik not spent years in close proximity with a telepath, he might have thought that was directed at him, but he was able to recognise when a comment was meant for someone else.

"There are more than just us two here, aren't there?" Erik asked, though he knew the answer already, and was intrigued by the thought, intrigued by the idea of mutants not under Shaw's control. Though, he was also slightly uneasy at the idea of another telepath. It had never been pleasant having Emma know his every thought, whim and secret.

Azazel sighed heavily before saying, "Yes, and I'm sure you'll meet them before long. Forgive me, Lensherr, but I have other business to attend to. Make yourself at home – I wasn't joking when I said that I'm hardly ever here," and with one last nod at Erik, the demon dissipated into a sulphuric wisp, and the smell brought back memories of dodgeball and yelling about not cheating by teleporting all over the place.

Erik waited until the smell of Sulphur dissipated completely before pinching his nose between his thumb and finger. Talk about a blast from the past. As he began unpacking, Erik realised he probably should have asked what Azazel was doing in England anyway. Besides the obvious that is.

Until he remembered that he didn't really care what Azazel was doing in England – He hadn't even remembered he knew him until ten seconds ago. And so, with a shrug Erik pulled out his schedule and started memorising where his classes were and how to get there, if only so he could avoid having to ask someone.

~X~

Erik settled into life at Oxford easily enough. It was strange to be staying on campus at first, but he decided that it was more convenient this way. He didn't have to borrow books from the library all the time, and he could stay in the Campus' library as late as he wanted, which actually made him happier than he would ever admit aloud.

One of his favourite times quickly became that point in the night when there were only a handful of students left in the extensive library and he could roam through the shelves without needing to be bothered about others loitering at his shoulders, shifting as if trying to peer around and see all books available, or which one he had in hand. It was annoying, and Erik often wanted nothing more than to pick them up by the zips in their jackets, or jeans or their watches and unceremoniously toss them to the other side of the Library. He came very close to doing so on several occasions, but as soon as Erik turned his glare on those foolish enough to bother him, they seemed to realise who they were annoying and they hurriedly found somewhere else to look.

Azazel, true to his word, was hardly ever in their shared room, and so Erik had practically taken it over with several stacks of Electronic books, or books about magnetic theory, not to mention the various amounts of metal that was scattered about the room. Erik simply felt more secure having metal on hand – One thing spending time with Shaw had taught him was to be cautious, no matter the environment you're in, which is precisely why Erik always had at least one coin in his pocket as he was walking around. Even the bathroom had several screws and coins lying on the basin.

The only thing that bothered him about life at Oxford was the feeling that he was not the only one in his head. It wasn't often that Erik would feel that fluttering presence at the back of his mind, but it frustrated him whenever he did. Although it was a light presence, and not intrusive in the slightest, it still annoyed Erik that a telepath would just invite themselves into his mind as if they knew him and had a right to be there, and it was highly distracting to realise you weren't alone in your mind, especially when you were trying to memorise complicated equations and formulas. More than once Erik had none too gently told whoever it was to kindly fuck _off_, and he was never sure whether he should be amused, or offended that the presence would swell with surprise each and every time they were caught, before flaring indignantly and finally fading away, resentment evident in the lingering traces of them.

More annoying than the telepath inviting themselves into Erik's mind though, was the bewildering warmth and familiarity that would initially spread through him at the feel of their presence. It frustrated him because a stranger was trying to sneak into his mind, and so his mind had no business relaxing at the feeling of their consciousness' meeting, as if he were greeting a friend after a long trip. It was just startling that his consciousness would so readily accept another's presence considering how cautious he was in daily life.

.

Another thing that Azazel had been correct about, was the fact that Erik would surely meet the other mutants that were there at Oxford. The first was possibly the one that startled him most, however.

Erik had been quite contentedly reading through Dracula, when he suddenly felt that he wasn't alone – Not in the same way he'd been dealing with for weeks now, but in the physical sense. Reaching with his powers for the coin in his pocket, Erik looked up with a glare on his face. The glare faltered slightly and turned to a frown of bewilderment, however, as he was met by his own face staring at him, his lips pulled into a bemused smile that simply didn't suit him.

"I always thought we'd meet again," Erik's own voice told him, and he arched an eyebrow sceptically at the uncanny impostor.

"Did you now?" he asked, pulling the coin out of his pocket with barely discernable movements of his fingers.

And then his doppelganger's eyes shimmered and turned into memorable reptilian yellow, and Erik fought down the want to groan. Sitting before him was one mutant he had never been able to forget, her power simply too fascinating.

"Raven," he acknowledged, and the obscene way his lips stretched into a pleased smile didn't suit his face at _all, _Erik decided, before his faux-self blurred slightly and a woman with shoulder length blonde hair and light blue eyes looked at him. Erik simply frowned at her, "_That _is not the real Raven," he stated, disdain barely concealed in his tone. Was she ashamed of her true form? How ridiculous. They were the future, and she was hiding behind a mask?

The woman before him met his gaze balefully before allowing herself to shift into her azure self. It didn't escape Erik's attention that she flinched at the gasps of horror as she did so, and it annoyed him that she did so, because it was his firm opinion that she looked better in her natural form. She should be proud of the fact that she was different, proud of who she was.

"You're beautiful," Erik commented, taking care to keep any possible inflection out of his tone, "You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are," and he was rewarded with a winning smile for his words.

"You've become the charmer, Lensherr," Raven said, cocking her head to the side as she looked over at him, "Is that how you greet _all_ the women you meet? Or just those from your past?"

Erik simply snorted derisively, fixed his gaze back on his book, and retorted, "Don't misunderstand, it was an objective observation."

To his surprise, Raven actually laughed at his words, and Erik felt distinctly uncomfortable for a moment. He wasn't used to people laughing _at_ him, they normally avoided him completely. Was it because she knew him from before his time with Shaw that Raven was unaffected by his rough demeanour? Erik frowned slightly at the thought before deciding that it didn't matter. It wasn't as if he was going to start to gush about old times or let the shapeshifter behind his defences just because she wasn't scared of him.

Unexpectedly, the silence that stretched on between Raven and himself was almost … Companionable. She seemed content to watch the people as they went by, trying on their hair styles or eye colour once they were out of sight, while Erik pretended to read his book. As Erik's eyes skated unseeingly over the words of the novel though, he couldn't help but feel like something was missing. There was a vital person, someone related to Raven, that was missing. Seeing her brought back carefully buried memories of blue eyes and warm laughter, of someone he was sure had been important. Erik frowned as he thought about it, unable to recall anything outside of 'startling blue eyes'.

He put it out of his mind, however, as Raven spoke to him, asking what it was that brought him to England. For a moment, Erik missed the times when people knew not to talk to him, it usually saved him the irritation that came with small talk.

Tickling at the edge of his consciousness, he could feel the unnamed telepath's amusement, and Erik sent the presence a half-hearted _Be amused elsewhere_, an almost smile playing with the edges of his mouth.

Meeting up with Hank had been decidedly less startling. Erik hadn't known it, but Hank was actually in his Electrical Theory lecture class, since it was an 'open' class. The other mutant hadn't even made his presence known to Erik until a few days after meeting Raven.

Erik had been distinctly irritated when somebody dared stand in his way of the chalkboard one afternoon, and that feeling simply intensified when he realised it was some timid person whose mouth was opening and closing, apparently unable to get the words out.

He was about two seconds away from snarling 'Spit it out, or fuck off' before the uncertain male said in an almost quavering voice, "Erik Lensherr, right?" and his eye twitched, actually _twitched_ at the question.

The timid classmate took a step back and bit on his lips before saying a rush, "I'm sorry, it's just that I went to school with you and Raven, and she said she'd spoken to you so I'd thought-"

"Fuck. Just, shut up," Erik ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath, and the other man's mouth had closed with an audible snap, "Who are you?"

"Hank. Hank McCoy," Erik noticed the way he was shifting from foot to foot and was decidedly frustrated by it, the name also meant absolutely nothing to him.

"Don't remember you," he said, a touch dismissively, hoping that would be enough for Hank to take the hint and leave him alone. Instead, Hank smiled ruefully and started to play with the strap of his bag.

"I didn't think you would, Azazel said you didn't remember him either," and Erik couldn't help but arch an eyebrow with interest at that.

"You're one of us then?" he asked, taking Hank in with new eyes. He still found the shifting and timidness irritating – As he had thought with Raven, if Hank was a mutant, he should be prouder – but if Hank was a mutant … Well, Erik was at least slightly less inclined to throw him to the other side of the room to move him out of the way.

So, with self control the like of which Erik wasn't sure he had, he simply sighed, and said through clenched teeth, "Wonderful as our reunion might be, can you move Hank? I'm in the middle of copying the notes down."

Hank, as Erik expected, squeaked with surprise, before hurriedly sitting down in the seat closest to him, apparently intent on catching up on old times or something equally asinine. Erik had to take a few calming breaths before he could get back to his notes – The seat Hank was sitting on would have crumpled beneath him otherwise, metal legs and all.

~X~

Almost two months in to the University term, Erik still has no idea who the Telepath is. He's tried asking the other mutants, but Hank pointedly changes the subject when Erik brings it up with him, and Azazel simply shrugs and says "You'll find out eventually." As for Raven, she simply grins mischievously and asks "You really have no clue?" as though he's being incredibly dense. As for Erik … He is getting extremely close to threatening them all with the pointy end of a very sharp metal instrument if they don't tell him soon. The fact that they're being secretive about it quite possibly unsettles Erik more than the fact that the unknown Telepath is _still_ slipping into his mind now and then, despite Erik's constant demands that they get the fuck _out_.

One night when Erik is in the library late, he feels when the telepath's presence curls around the edge of his consciousness and Erik actually lets his head fall into his hand with frustration. '_You really can't take a hint, you know'_, he snarls, and in some deep, forgotten part of his mind, he realises it's rather similar to someone he used to know. But who, Erik can't recall, and he hears Raven's words repeated to him _You really have no clue?_

Erik bites back a growl of frustration as focuses on his text book back again, eyes scanning to try and find where it was he was up to. After staring at the page blankly for a few minutes, the presence still weaving in and out of his consciousness almost playfully, Erik mentally sighs and shoots the presence a barbed thought of _'If you're going to insist on being there, you should at least tell me who the fuck you are'_

There's a sudden thump a few desks away, and Erik jerks his head around to glare at the moron who can't even hold onto his books. As he stares, Erik realises that the stranger's face is slightly panicked, his eyes staring down at the desk determinedly, tilting his head enough that his floppy, unkempt brown hair _almost_ hides the fact that his eyes are darting about, two fingers resting up against his temple as he chews at his lower lip. A lower lip that Erik can't help but notice is obscenely red. They're red enough that Erik briefly wonders if the other man wears gloss or coloured balm or something, because _surely_ that shade of red can't be natural?

Then those eyes rise and meet Erik's almost hesitantly, and Erik absolutely refuses to admit that he just drew a breath of surprise at exactly _how_blue those eyes are, refuses to acknowledge that they actually managed to draw such a reaction from him. A tongue darts out to wet those red lips, and Erik equally ignores the way that he watches that tongue, telling himself that he's still glaring about the noise the other student had made.

Seconds pass in which the two men simply stare at one another, one trying to seem menacing and annoyed – though, really, he's fascinated in a way he can't explain - while the other's lips tremble with unspoken words. And then another unseen student pushes their chair out with a noisy screech, and the moment is broken.

The floppy-haired man blurts, "I'm sorry," before he snatches up his bag and hurriedly leaves the room, his hand lowering from his temple as he goes.

Erik isn't entirely sure what compels him to do it, maybe he's horrified about that horrendous sweater the other man is wearing, but he watches the other man's retreating figure as it practically darts away. As the blue eyed man gets to the door, Erik can see him half turn his head to look over his shoulder, before he shakes his head as though telling himself not to do something.

When Erik looks back at the table the other man had just vacated, he can see that a Genetics textbook is sitting there. Normally, Erik couldn't give a fuck if other students leave their books behind – it's their own fault, he thinks. So, he can't explain why this time he finds himself rising from his table and plucking the lost Genetics book up.

Thumbing through the book, he cringes slightly when he realises that blue-eyes is one of those people that highlight sections of his textbook. He comes to the back cover, and in the bottom corner on the inside, clearly printed, he can read _Property of Charles Xavier. Please return to room 404 if found, _and Erik manages to stabilise himself with a firm hand on the desk before the assault begins.

_My names Charles, by the way. Charles Xavier – I like everyone in class though Erik! They're all nice and everyone has lovely minds … Oh, _fine_. If I absolutely _must_ choose, I'd like you best – But that's stupid Erik! I can't play with you alone! The others will think I don't like them – I hate it when you do that Erik! I hate it when I can't read you! – That makes absolutely no sense. Now we're both going to have a cold hand – I'm so happy that I met you Erik. We'll always be friends, right?- Erik, you must come play with me in the summer, okay? Pinky promise! – Don't you dare Erik! I'll never speak to you again if you do! – Erik, you have to calm your mind. Erik! I'm so sorry Erik. I'm so, so sorry._

His textbooks and the Genetics book are completely forgotten as Erik takes off down the hall at a sprint, completely heedless of the way that the light fixtures twine together as he passes, running as fast as his legs can carry him, his eyes wide and searching. Of course – Of _course_ there had been another Telepath he'd known, one who had absolutely refused to sop prying in his mind because he thought it was fascinating. _How_ could he have forgotten?

Erik almost trips over someone as he comes skidding around the corner at the same time they take a step out, and it takes a brief moment of Erik looking back into wide, shocked blue eyes for him to realise that it's Charles. And Erik is caught between wanting to punch his lights out for settling himself into his mind as though they hadn't been separated for more than ten years, wants to beat him senseless for not coming forward and telling Erik it was him – The fact that he hadn't remembered them hadn't stopped Raven, Hank, or Azazel. He wants to yell and snarl profanities at him for being so _stupid_.

Instead, Erik just pulls Charles tight against him, the – still – smaller man's arms automatically curling around Erik's back just like they used to when they were kids. And Erik can feel that Charles is crying, can feel the dampness in his shirt, can feel a tickle at the back of his own eyes that he refuses to acknowledge.

It doesn't stop him from growling, "You complete and utter fucking fool. I could kill you for so many things right now – and then bring you back to life and kill you all over again. How dare you - How _dare _you," and Erik isn't entirely sure what he's mad about more - Charles' silence, or his behaving as if he still has a right to Erik's mind.

It doesn't matter which really, because even now Erik can feel Charles' consciousness reaching out to meet his, and it feels just like being welcomed home, and Charles is saying "I know, I _know_. But you didn't remember me at all, and I just didn't know what to do! I missed you so much, and you didn't even remember and I'm sorry Erik. I'm sorry. I'm _so_ so-"

Charles doesn't manage to get through his third apology before Erik has jerked back out of Charles' arms, and instead brings a fist down across his cheek. The fact that Charles can see the punch coming and simply closes his eyes, waiting, accepting it infuriates Erik and adds fuel to the fire and possibly makes him hit harder.

"The next time I tell you to get the fuck out of my mind, do it Charles! You don't just get free access anymore."

Erik refuses to allow himself to feel remorseful about the small amount of blood Charles spits out before he levels his gaze with Erik's, his expression guarded.

"I'll admit I deserved that. They all told me you'd be pissed off when you found out it was me. Let me make something perfectly clear though, Erik. I never, not once, went deep enough into your mind to see more than surface thoughts. It was only enough to actually _feel_ your mind again. You can't begin to understand how much I've missed you through these years. So, forgive me if I dared to crave that _small _amount of contact with you after all this time."

"You could have just told me who you were," Erik pointed out, and Charles flushed slightly at the words.

"You didn't even remember me, how could I?"

With a heavy sigh, Erik felt the anger leave him and he was simply staring at Charles, trying to merge the boy in his memories, with the man that standing before him, his eyes an icy glare.

And then the glare gave way to an apologetic expression. Uncertainly, Charles raised a hand and placed it on Erik's shoulder. _'I _am_ sorry I didn't tell you sooner_', the words came to him, and Erik could _feel _sincerity in Charle's mental voice, and it was ridiculous the way he actually felt ashamed of the way he'd lashed out in his anger.

Heaving an irritated sigh, Erik ran a hand through the back of his hair before he turned around and started making his way back to the library to get his things, not even sure what he was feeling at that moment in time.

As Charles fell into step beside him though, things felt more right than they had in a long time, and Erik glanced over at his childhood friend uncertainly – Where did they go from here? Where did they stand now? And then something occurred to Erik that made him snort in amusement, Charles looking _up_at him with an arched eyebrow

"You're still a short arse, you know," Erik told him, grinning as he realised Charles stood between his jaw and shoulders.

"Oh, shut up Erik," Charles snapped, his lips quirking into a smile of its own accord at the familiarity of the remark, his eyes sweeping over the twisted metal of the lights with something akin to pride.

* * *

><p>So, how did you guys like this one? I <em>really<em> hope that everyone liked it, cos I was really happy with the way everything in this chapter came out.

Before we go much further into the story, let me make something clear; I am in no way familiar with Oxford, neither am I particularly sure what kind of courses they offer. So, as far as layout, lifestyle and ... Well, everything that revolves around the school is concerned, I have abused my creative license _thoroughly_. So, for anyone who _is_ actually familiar with it ... Please ignore any mistakes on my part.

And on that note, keep groovy until next time, loves~


	3. Renewed bromances & startling truths

First of all, big thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I can't express how happy it makes me to see that others are enjoying this! I hope that you all like this chapter too, since this is when things start to get interesting w

**Warnings:** Love of the homosexual nature. Implications of sexual situations. Oh, and swearing.

... Most of which applies this time around.

And now that all that's out of the way - I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

><p>The reunion with Charles was strange, and confusing – And not only because Charles had somehow managed to skip ahead two years in his education, which put him in the same Uni year as Erik. In a lot of ways, their friendship was still the same as when they were younger though.<p>

For instance, Charles absolutely refused to fully separate his consciousness from Erik's now that Erik was aware it was him, so Erik had no choice but to get used to that fluttery-barely-there Cinnamon-Tea warmth that was Charles' presence in the back of his mind. They fought quite viciously about this in the early stages of their renewed-friendship.

One time their verbal arguing actually deteriorated into a fist fight - in the middle of the cafeteria, of all places. Erik had been certain he would have won that one, having the experience and greater body mass. He certainly hadn't anticipated it ending with Charles sitting on his stomach, his small hands holding Erik's wrists to the floor while he pinned him down with surprising strength. Eyes as cold as winter glared down at him, positively _daring_him to try and break free. Something Erik had indeed tried, and failed to do. They didn't speak with one another for a week after that, and Erik thought it was entirely Charles' fault that his reputation as someone to avoid had been destroyed.

It wasn't until Charles explained in minute detail that it wasn't that he was looking into Erik's mind and thoughts all the time, it was just a link that made it easier to connect to his mind should he need him that Erik grudgingly accepted. Over time, Erik found it actually made communicating with Charles a lot easier, since if he directed a thought towards that warmth, Charles would understand it was a thought _intended_for him.

And, although Charles had promised him he wouldn't actually read his mind without Erik's explicit permission, Erik still found that Charles had this annoying tendency to know exactly what he was thinking, or what he was feeling. Erik also found that, just like when they were children, he was completely unable to lie to Charles, no matter the topic.

There was also the fact that, since that night in the Library, Erik and Charles seemed to spend almost every waking minute with one another just like when they were young. To be sure, the subjects they discussed now were completely different, and they certainly didn't agree on everything – Mutant and Human relations, for instance. And there were the times when Erik would physically kick Charles out of his room so he could get some work done, which most people understood to be code for "I need time by myself Charles!". Every time that happened though, Charles could be found beating on the door within a few hours, all-but-snarling "You're a year ahead Erik! What work could you possibly need to do that takes more than an hour?" before Erik would let him back inside, a scowl on his face, despite the wide smile Charles favoured him with each and every time.

To the rest of the student body at Oxford, Erik and Charles seemed to be the closest friends – Or _more_, most of them theorised – and nobody seemed to believe that it was possible they'd been separated for half their lives.

. . . . .

Similar as their friendship was to what it was before though, there were also definitely differences. Of course there would be.  
>Though they had always argued back when they were younger, now that they were older their arguments were a lot more heated, had a lot more cussing (Pre-dominantly on Erik's side), and more often than not resulted in them ignoring one another for periods of time – Both having developed a stubborn streak and an unwillingness to accept that they were wrong. The other mutants, and even regular students who saw them around campus Oxford often muttered about the fact that they fought like an old married couple, though they would never say such a thing to either's face.<p>

Then there was the startling revelation that Moira MacTaggert was a good friend to Charles. Erik wasn't sure how he felt about that, and had missed an entire day of lectures because he'd been too busy sitting in his room brooding about it. Naturally enough, Charles questioned him about it later that night, and then became highly offended when Erik had told him that he didn't like the fact that he was still friends with Moira.

"Damn it Erik! We're not five and seven anymore! You don't get to dictate who I befriend and who I don't!" he snapped before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

Several hours later, Erik wasn't sure what bewildered him more; That it was Charles who snapped first, that he'd followed that up by storming out the room and not returning for the night, that Charles was so angry he'd even withdrawn his presence from Erik's mind, or that it was he who'd gone to Charles' room, unable to take the silence anymore.

Whichever it was, Erik still went to Charles' room, and, for the first time in his life, actually apologised – and meant it. Which, of _course_ Charles would follow that up by chewing on his lower lip and looking at the floor with downcast eyes as he said, "No, I overreacted. You never _did_like Moira for some reason, but I won't apologise for being friends with her, she's really rather brilliant." Erik bristled at the words, but was old enough now to not stop talking to Charles' because of it. Instead, he vaguely wondered why it was that he felt so threatened by a silly human like Moira.

And then, of course, there was a whole myriad of new circumstances they never could have envisioned back when they were younger. Like the fact that the entire school body seemed to watch them, seemingly with baited breath as if they were waiting for something to happen.

"They seem to be convinced there's more to you and I than a simple friendship," Charles commented one time during his and Erik's Tuesday-night Chess game, having caught Erik glaring at a pair of girls who were watching with wide eyes.

"What would give them that idea?" Erik sighed, making a point to ignore the peculiar feeling that was bubbling in his stomach at the idea.

Charles, bewilderingly, blushed slightly as he considered his next move before shrugging, "I couldn't say," and then he grinned widely before moving his Bishop and announcing "Checkmate. That makes it nine for me, Erik."

Erik was mildly distracted by the way that the blush on Charles' cheeks was highlighting exactly _how_blue his eyes were to particularly care that he'd just been beaten – again.

~X~

The first test of Charles and Erik's friendship came to them, typically enough, in the midst of a smaller argument that was blown massively out of proportion. Neither one could even remember what had started it – They'd just been watching a TV series in Erik's dorm room, which had somehow turned into them standing on opposite ends of the small room, snarling and snapping at one another in hushed tones.

"What do you even know about me? What do you know about what I've had to go through in those years?" Erik hissed, trying to keep his mind calm so that the metal in the room didn't start flying around angrily like he could sense it wanted to.

Charles' reply had taken him completely by surprise though – "Everything!" he had all but yelled, and for a moment Erik felt as though he'd been dumped in a cold tub of ice.

"'Everything'? … What do you know?" he'd asked, his voice soft and, loath as Erik was to admit it, slightly terrified.

"You may want to be more specific Erik, that's an incredibly vague question."

"Don't fuck with me Charles. What do you _know_?"

And Charles seemed to realise that the meaning of the argument had completely changed, because his enraged expression suddenly shifted into an apologetic one. "I mean everything right up until you walked into the campus."

Erik's eyes narrowed dangerously, and a single metal ornament twisted up and out of his control, orbiting around Erik's body as if waiting a command.

"I didn't mean to," Charles said, his cheeks flushing slightly, "I had actually been looking for Raven, when your mind all but assaulted me and I found out about _everything_." And then Charles' nose wrinkled the way it always did when he disagreed with something, or thought about something unpleasant, "Shaw was a prick, by the way. I can't believe you let yourself fall to that level."

"_What_ do you _know_, Charles?" Erik repeated, a minor growl to his tone, his greenish grey eyes flashing in the dim light of the TV as he took a step towards Charles, and then another, until he was standing toe to toe with the shorter man. Charles refused to allow himself be intimidated though, even when Erik took hold of his wrists and held them a little too tightly.

"What do you want me to say Erik?" Charles asked in a soft voice, "That I know all about Shaw and the way he used you? That I know you tried to look for your mother's murderer but were never able to find him? … Or that I know about what happened with Susan Braithe?"

The colour suddenly drained from Erik's face and the metal ornaments fell to the floor with a thud as he let go of Charles' wrists, choosing instead to take a step back and run a hand down and along his jaw, his mind reeling from the implications.

"Then – You," he forced himself to swallow his irrational anxiety, "You know?"

Charles sighed gently and tentatively closed that gap between himself and Erik, grasping the elder man's hands between his own comfortingly. "I know about your preference, yes. And no, I don't care. I _don't_care that you're attracted to men at all Erik. I'm almost offended you thought that I would think less of you for it."

Erik hastily swallowed the disbelieving laugh and instead narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Charles. "I thought you said you wouldn't read my mind without permission?"

Charles actually rolled his eyes at the words, "My friend, I don't need to read your mind to understand your uncertainties or fears about that."

His eyebrows rose questioningly at Charles' choice of words. It sounded as if Charles were speaking from experience, and so, Erik waited for Charles to explain what he meant.

"I – Well, that is," and Erik absolutely did not find it endearing that Charles was blushing, "That is to say, I'm not exclusively attracted to either gender."

Erik was being very careful at that point in time to not think about how adorable Charles looked in that moment, blushing a bright red right to the roots of his hair, his eyes determinedly fixed on his and Erik's still joined hands.

"Charles, are you suggesting that you're bi?"

Furthering Erik's opinion that a flustered Charles was an adorable Charles, the younger male simply nodded his head profusely, chewing on his lower lip. "I haven't actually admitted that to someone before," he confessed after a few seconds, "Though I'm fairly sure people _know – _Raven, for instance - it's different to actually tell someone."

Pulling his hands free, Erik made his way back to the bottom bunk that had been converted into a lounge. But then, he turned to look at Charles from over his shoulder and asked, "And do you feel better for having told someone?"

"Do you?" Charles countered, a small smile playing with his mouth, and Erik took a moment to consider his answer.

"Yes," he said. Privately, he thought that he felt better for it because it was Charles he told, but he was making a conscious decision not to think about that.

~X~

Since cutting his ties with Shaw, Erik had made a point to avoid bars and drinking. It was his way of trying to prove to himself that he was beyond that life, that it – and everything that Shaw represented – was in the past. Of _course_ things wouldn't be that simple – He was Erik Lensherr and _nothing_was ever simple.

"We're going to a bar!" Charles declared the very instant Erik opened the door to him. It was only because Charles quickly wedged his foot in the doorframe with an innocent smile that Erik didn't slam the door shut in his face.

"_Why_?" Erik groaned, glaring up at the heavens and sure that the angels were laughing at him in that moment.

"Because it's my birthday, and that's what people _do_on their birthday's," Charles replied as though Erik were being awfully dense.

"You can't even drink yet," Erik pointed out. As Charles continued to grin up at him though, his smile simply becoming broader at Erik's words, Erik realised with dawning horror that it was Charles' twenty first birthday. "Shit," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not coming."

Charles' smile instantly gave way to a pout, "Why on earth not? This is my twenty first birthday celebration, and I want you there!"

When Erik deigned to look over at Charles to give him an irritated glare, he realised that the younger man was looking up at him with wide eyes and a pout that could only be described as a puppy-dog expression, and even before Charles said "Please?" in the most wounded voice he could muster, Erik knew he was going to cave.

"Argh! Alright! Fine! But don't expect me to carry you home!"

As soon as Charles whooped with joy, Erik knew he would come to regret the surrender.

. . . . . .

A few hours later, Erik was sitting at the bar, moodily downing yet another beer. Had someone asked him what annoyed him about Charles before that night, Erik would have told them his damnable ability to beat him at chess nine times out of ten. Now, however, he would tell them that it was his obnoxiously bad flirting and pick up lines. Honestly, what on _earth_ would convince someone "That's a very _groovy_mutation you have," would be a good pick up line? And worse, it seemed to be working!

Growling softly into his beer, Erik made a point to ignore the clearly inebriated, rambunctious laughter that was Charles, and tried extremely hard not to glare at the curvaceous dark haired woman he was leaning on.

He must have failed miserably though, because not two seconds after the dark haired woman met his gaze, she flinched and whispered into Charles' ear.

Charles, of _course,_drunk as he was, replied quite loudly, "Oh, that's because he's just a grouch. He really is lovely once you get to know him though …Well, to some people. Most just think he's an arse."

Scowling, Erik ordered two scotch's on the rocks and downed one in a single gulp, before he sipped irritably at the other. The burning of his throat did little to stifle his irrational anger at the woman Charles was leaning on, or towards the pretty blonde he'd spoken to earlier, or even towards Hank when Charles tripped and fell into his lap, giggling even as Hank tried to scramble away, shooting furtive glances in Erik's way.

He heard a soft chuckle to his left and a glance revealed Azazel to be there, standing between two bar stools and looking towards the loud crowd that had amassed around Charles.

"Even drunk, he draws people to him like a moth to the flame," the mutant commented, his mouth quirked with humour.

Erik simply made a noise of irritation at the statement, swirling the brown liquid around in his glass. Azazel looked down at Erik with a smirk on his face, and Erik didn't like that smirk, found that knowing look in Azazel's eye irritating. The only thing that stopped him from actually punching the grin off the hell-demon's face – He'd hit people in the past for less – was the fact that he actually _liked_the company of the other mutant.

The sentiment must have been obvious, however, because Azazel rolled his eyes in a slow, dramatic way. "You're as bad as one another" he said half-under his breath, before looking Erik dead in the eye and saying, "If it bothers you so, actually _do_something about it."

"About what?" Erik growled.

Before Azazel could say a word though, Erik's eyes flicked over to the crowd around Charles, and his gaze instantly focused on the way that the dark haired woman's hand was curled around Charles' waist. Before he'd even given it any thought, Erik had focused on her chunky, cheap-metal, bracelet and none-too-gently tugged it away from Charles, almost making her spin around from the force of it.

The woman, clearly startled, looked around to see if anyone had pushed her. Erik simply sipped at his drink, feeling vindictively pleased with himself.

_'That wasn't very nice,_' Charles' voice commented.

_'Slip of control'_

_'Liar.'_

Erik didn't bother to deign that last accusation with a response, turning his back on the crowd once more instead. Azazel was still looking at him, looking very much like he was half inclined to reprimand Erik, but thought the whole thing was amusing and so was choosing not to. Which brought Erik back to the red-mutant's earlier remark, _If it bothers you so, actually do something about it_. What was it that was bothering him?

The answer to that came to him alarmingly easily – The attention that Charles was getting was annoying him. His stupid pick up line was irritating. The fact that he was draped all over anyone who'd allow him was infuriating. Watching Charles as he flirted with _everyone_ was pissing him off. But the fact that people were responding to that, responding to _Charles_ was making Erik want to take hold of the metal everyone was wearing and forcibly pull them to the walls so that _no one_was close to Charles anymore.

Erik snorted at the thoughts. If anyone heard them, they would assume that he was – That he … Erik put the glass back down on the bar with wide eyes and lips parted with surprise

No. No, that couldn't be it. Could it?

It was true that seeing the attention Charles was getting tonight – Well, the attention that Charles _always_got - annoyed Erik, but it wasn't because he was jealous or anything. He'd always been like that when it came to Charles …

And it was true they fought a lot, but it wasn't because there was unresolved sexual tension or whatever it was that girls went on about these days …

And, yes, okay, Erik didn't like it when Charles wasn't around, but it wasn't because he couldn't stand to be without him. It was just … He just … Liked it when Charles was around. He was pleasant company, it wasn't because he had any ulterior motives in monopolizing Charles' time …

And it wasn't as if there was anything strange about him noticing the way Charles looked when he blushed. He was just adorable when he did, it wasn't as if – Well, no, Erik _did_ think it was attractive He'd be lying if he said that he didn't think it was, but that didn't have to mean that Erik was attract_ed_to him.

_Except you are_, the traitorous thought sang, unbidden, and Erik looked back over to the crowd, apparently unable to help himself. And there was Charles, his cheeks flushed pink – from liquor, or amusement, Erik didn't know – his lips, those stupidly, naturally red lips, wide as he laughed along with the crowd, and one hand was threaded through that thick, chocolate brown fringe.

As if sensing his gaze, Charles' eyes flicked up to find Erik's, and it was like the first time Erik had seen them all over again, the blue of those eyes positively knocking the breath out of him for a moment. And, it was all made even worse by Charles smiling over at him, even as that mouth wrapped around the bottle top of a beer.

"Well fuck," Erik breathed, blinking in shock at the revelation. He was ridiculously, unbearably, immeasurably attracted to his best friend.

"And there you are," Azazel hummed, amusement evident in his tone, before muttering something else that Erik didn't catch.

"I have to – I can't. I'm leaving."

And with that, Erik jerked away from the bar as if had scalded him and forced himself to _walk_out of the bar, instead of darting off like a rabbit the way that he was inclined to. When Charles sent Erik a confused thought at his sudden departure, Erik simply waved an apology in his direction. As soon as Erik was out of sight of the bar, he allowed himself to break into a dash, and he didn't stop running until he came to his dorm room, his breath heaving and his mind still darting all over the place.

_How long_? He wondered, as he fell onto the lower bunk, burying his face in his hands, trying to block the world out as he thought. How long has he felt this way about Charles? When did it happen? What made it manifest? What should he do now that he knew? … Should he tell Charles?

"No. Absolutely not," Erik growled, shaking his head at the foolish thought. No. One thing he could not do was tell Charles. Charles was his closest, and, essentially, only friend. Erik might like Azazel, but it wasn't enough to call him a friend.

Setting his elbows on his knee's, Erik pressed his hands together and set his chin upon the tip. No. Telling Charles was absolutely out of the question. He would just have to hope this went away. It was probably just a crush after all. Yeah. Just a crush, it would fade…

As Erik fell back into the bed and prepared himself to sleep, his mind briefly wandered over to the secret treasure he had buried in with his Turtlenecks, but then the thought was lost to unconsciousness.

. . . . .

Sleep was hurriedly stripped from him however as a thudding burst through the quiet, and Erik instinctually reached out for a few screws, ready to defend himself from an unseen threat.

Heart still pounding in his ears, Erik gradually realised that the thudding was simply the door, and outside he could hear an entirely too cheerful call of "Eeeerik! Open Uuuuuup."

Falling headfirst into his pillow, Erik, for just a moment, was inclined to pretend that he was asleep. He didn't think he'd be able to cope with a drunk Charles tonight.

_'Except I can feel that you're awake. Oh – Damn. I read your surface thoughts again. So sorry. It's harder to control when I'm like this it seems. Anyway, open the door already would you? It's a little chilly out here and –'_

Erik growled inarticulately as Charles' mental monologue ran through his mind, flicking the lock aside and pulling the door open with his face still jammed into the pillow. Charles, of course, simply walked on in with a content smile on his face and kicked the door shut behind him, giggling at how loud the noise was.

"Thankyou Erik. You know, I can't believe they'd make the legal drinking age twenty one, it seems like we waste so much time being sober. _I_ think that we should go to Australia – _their_drinking age is eighteen, did you know? Imagine that, still at school and allowed to drink!"

Concentrating on allowing Charles' rambling to simply go over his head, Erik realised that Charles' presence in his mind was a lot … Louder than it normally was. Instead of being the normal fluttery feeling around the edges, it felt as though his mind was _drowning_in the Cinnamon coffee flavour that was Charles.

"Tea, if you don't mind," Charles said suddenly, his words completely unrelated to whatever he'd been yattering on about two seconds before.

"What?"

"If you're going to give me a 'Flavour', I'd much rather you thought of me as Cinnamon tea, not coffee. You _know_I can't stand coffee Erik."

Erik raised his head to tell Charles that it was his mind and he'd call him whatever he felt like, when he instead jumped with shock as he realised that Charles was lying on the bed beside him. Erik hadn't even felt him crawl onto the bed, let alone slip under the cover, but there Charles was, his head on the pillow beside Erik's with a smile on his face and his eyes wide and innocent as he declared,

"But, if we're going to give one another flavours, I'd have to say that yours is Mint and Metal, it's a weird combination really."

"Charles, what on _earth_do you think you're doing?" Erik hissed, trying to calm his racing mind. Charles wasn't in complete control of his powers right now, and it was entirely one thing for Erik to have a revelation about his feelings towards the other man - it was a complete other for Charles to find out about the said revelation on the same night.

Charles didn't seem to be paying any attention to Erik's thoughts, however, because he simply frowned with confusion and said, "Well, what does it look like I'm doing? I can't remember where my key is, so it seems only natural I'd come here."  
>"Okay, yes, alright, but in the same bed as me?" Erik tried extremely hard to keep the slight edge of panic – and the thrum of pleasure he was feeling at the thought under other circumstances – out of his voice.<p>

"Well, I didn't think I'd be able to climb the ladder, the world is spinning as it is. In fact, there are three of you right now. Curious that you all look so … I don't know, panicked."

"You woke me up and crawled into my bed Charles, I'm just startled," Yes, that was a reasonable excuse.

Charles, however, rolled those big blue eyes of his and said, "Honestly, Erik. It's not as though I'm trying to seduce you or anything," and, Erik couldn't be sure because it was dark, and those words had temporarily startled him, but Charles' cheeks might have flushed pink in that moment.

"I'm aware of that, Charles" Erik retorted, also rolling his eyes, trying to smother the image of Charles trying to seduce him before Charles could see it in his not-completely-in-control state.

There came no response however, and as Erik squinted in the dark, he could see that Charles had already fallen asleep, his mouth slack and probably drooling on Erik's pillow.

With a heavy sigh, Erik rubbed at his face. _What_had he done to deserve this? Then, he allowed his head to fall back down, taking care to manoeuvre the fall so that his head was no longer resting on the pillow – Frankly, he didn't trust himself with Charles that close and unguarded - and fell straight into a dream.

. . . .

When Erik woke up, there were three things that he realised; First, at some point in the night Charles had thrown the pillow away, and his face was resting so close to Erik's that he could feel Charles' hair brushing against his forehead. The second was that Charles' legs had somehow become tangled with his through the night, and one of Erik's traitorous hands had found their way under Charles' shirt and onto his hipbone, as if trying to hold him as close as possible. The third, and potentially most problematic, was that Erik had a raging hard-on, which was more than a little worrying considering how close Charles was curled into him.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Erik blamed this entirely on Azazel, because if it wasn't for Azazel, Erik wouldn't have realised he had feelings for Charles, and if he hadn't realised he had feelings for Charles, he probably wouldn't have had that _dream_about him.

Seriously, of all the nights Erik could have had a sexual-dream about Charles – And Erik was trying hard not to bring that image back to mind, because he was trying to convince his boner to go _away_, not encourage it. And the image of Charles in that dream was entirely _too _encouraging … And was something that should probably be revisited at a later time, when the actual Charles wasn't anywhere in the vicinity. – It just _had_to be the one where Charles snuggled into him in his sleep. It was just his luck wasn't it?

After spending five minutes of lying there, flinching every time Charles shifted – Cos, was it his imagination, or was that leg actually _meaning_ to shift higher up Erik's? – Erik realised he couldn't take it anymore, and so he did the only thing he could think of. He unceremoniously pushed Charles over, and leapt over his still sleeping form so that he could go shower.  
>And have a good, <em>long<em>, one at that, because, fuck his luck, the Charles in his bed just moaned. The heaven's absolutely _hated_him.

. . . . .

When Erik walked out of the bathroom a good half hour later – or maybe an hour later, he wasn't sure. He'd rather lost track of time for a good while there – his bed was made and completely empty, save for a note lying on the pillow that read _I'm sorry. _Erik couldn't decide whether he should be offended, or relieved that Charles had run out on him like a one-night stand that shouldn't have happened.

Either way, things were decidedly awkward for the rest of that day, until Charles finally stopped avoiding him, and Erik _knew_he'd been avoiding him because he hadn't even felt Charles' presence in his mind through the whole day. He was nice enough to not mention this to Charles when the shorter man finally decided to stop running away though.

* * *

><p>Well - What did you guys think?<p>

I honestly had fun writing Erik's realisation ... _Mainly_ for the scene afterwards. Fufufufufu.


	4. Further revelations and Oh! Christmas!

Thankyou everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I'm happy to see that you enjoyed it! It was one of my favourite chapters to write, so I'm glad the feeling was mutual!

Mmm ... Do I really need to keep the Warnings in still? Four chapters in ... People are aware of what to expect, right?

Well just to be sure ... **Warnings:** Love of the homosexual nature. Implications of sexual situations. Oh, and swearing.

Hope you enjoy this chapter guys!

* * *

><p>There are certain things that Erik and Charles don't talk about, unspoken lines that each doesn't cross – Charles doesn't ask about Erik's mother, and Erik doesn't ask about what happened to Charles' parents.<p>

Now that he remembers, Erik knows that Charles used to talk a lot about his father, practically worshipped the man. Now, however …Erik doesn't hear him say a single thing about his father, or his mother, and it makes Erik curious. He wants to know what happened, but he also doesn't know whether he's allowed to ask.

It isn't until they're playing chess one Tuesday night (And Erik doesn't know why they're even bothering to play since they both know Charles is going to win), when Erik finally finds out.

"It's his anniversary today," Charles hums in barely more than a whisper, and Erik can see something heavy lurking behind Charles' eyes, so he doesn't say a thing and simply waits. "My father, that is," Charles continues after a few moments, and Erik's eyes flick up to Charles with surprise.

Still, he says nothing. Though his tongue is dying to form words like _What happened_?, Erik understands that Charles will tell him when he's ready to.

He's rewarded for his silence after a few more moves. Charles suddenly leans back in his chair, clasps his hands tightly in his lap, and crosses one leg over the other. There's something about the pose that is all but screaming 'Serious' to Erik, even without taking into account the way that Charles is chewing on his lower lip and looking off into the distance. Erik can see from the set of Charles' brow that he's made the decision to tell him though, and so the metal bender simply leans back in his chair and waits.

And, after a few more moments of deliberation, Charles finally says in a soft voice, "He died, you know. When I was thirteen. It was some kind of freak accident – A haemorrhage in his brain that killed him instantly. The worst of it was that I was right there. I was right _there_, and I could feel it as if I were experiencing it myself. It was … Horrible – One second he was fine, he had actually laughing at me, and then all of a sudden …" Charles stopped himself and swallowed, "The next second there was just nothing. Even when the paramedics came, all I could do was tell them how it was too late and that he was gone. It was more upsetting to see them try and revive him and know that they wouldn't be able to, to feel their disgust that his own son didn't even care for them to try."

Charles was biting at his lip again, and there were unshed tears in his eyes and Erik knew that he should be saying something, but he knew all too well that being told 'I'm sorry' does absolutely nothing for the pain. So, instead, Erik reached a hand over to grasp Charles' shoulder and told him, "He'd be proud of you."

Watery blue eyes fixed onto Erik's then, and Charles' lips twisted into a genuinely thankful smile as he breathed, "I hope so," before titling his head thoughtfully as he continued, "As for my mother – I haven't spoken to her in years. She never understood me and, foolish as it sounds, she always felt threatened by the way my father seemed to favour me. I absolutely hated living with her, to be honest. She was rather cold and was always far too concerned with how to make more money, even though we already had enough. So, I packed up my things and moved here as soon as I had access to my inheritance and then there was also …"

Abruptly, Charles cut himself off, only this time Erik had the distinct impression that it was because he was hiding something. And, although Erik narrowed his eyes suspiciously at this, he also chose to respect the fact that Charles had his own secrets. "Well, it was just better that I moved here and brought Raven along. Hank and Azazel followed shortly after, and then," Erik cocked his head at the warm smile that suddenly lit up Charles' entire face, and was irrationally jealous at whoever that smile was for. Until Charles added with his eyes locking on to Erik's, that warm and happy smile still firmly in place "… _You_ came," and for just a moment Erik felt the breath leave his lungs.

Charles continued to look over at him with that smile of his, and he was so warm and open and trusting, that Erik didn't feel worthy. He was sure that, one day, he would surely break the man he'd come to hold closest to his heart, because Erik seemed to only bring ruin to those he allowed close to him, and he just didn't know what he would do if something bad ever happened to Charles. He didn't know what he would do if _he_ was the cause of it.

Completely oblivious to Erik's inner turmoil, Charles stretched an arm out and allowed his hand to rest atop Erik's, his thumb brushing the skin there fondly.

"You've no idea how pleased I was to find you again," the telepath said, his eyes still open and fixated on Erik's.

And Erik had no idea to respond to that, so he simply levitated his rook forward, and said, "We'd best finish this if we plan to sleep tonight Charles," before removing his jacket, because the fact that he could feel warmth in his cheeks surely meant that the room was too warm. There was no possible way Erik could be blushing, such a thing was unimaginable.

Charles was still smiling.

~X~

There were several things that happened to Erik in his first year at Oxford that he had never imagined himself doing. What he was currently attempting to do, however, quite possibly topped that list.

He had no idea how he knew that it was Moira, he'd only seen her in passing several months ago, but as he watched the woman step out onto the street without even _looking_, something in him had known that it was her.

What she was doing, stepping onto the street without looking, Erik had every intention of grilling her about later. But, for now he was a touch preoccupied with trying to stop her human-ass from being turned into a human pancake, too busy concentrating on holding the truck back. … Or, rather, holding the truck and three cars back while she still continued to walk across the road completely unaware.

Erik felt a bead of sweat roll down from his forehead from the effort – He'd never attempted to stop moving traffic before, and he'd _certainly_ never tried to hold a truck with cargo back, so he could _feel_ that he was overexerting himself, but he had reacted on instinct. Although _he _didn't like Moira MacTaggert, Charles _did_, and Erik couldn't stand the thought of how Charles would react had he found out that Erik simply stood by and allowed Moira to be killed. At this rate though, the effort might end up killing _him_ instead.

'_Don't be foolish,'_ the mental voice of Charles snapped him suddenly, and for a moment Erik wondered if he was talking about trying to stop the truck and cars – Fuck it all, couldn't that Woman walk any faster? – but then Charles continued thinking at him as he ran towards the room Erik's lecture had been in, _'You're able to do this Erik. Shaw was wrong about your powers, it's not rage that fuels them … You need to find the point between rage and serenity. That's where your true power lies. If you can find that, you'd be even more powerful than I'_

Erik turned his head to look at Charles, who he could feel had just entered the room - Charles being the only one at Oxford who actually used a pocket watch - and snarled, "And how the _fuck_ do you propose I do that in the current circumstance?"

The truck accelerated and Erik was forced to hold onto it with more will, which _almost_ allowed one of the cars to go through, had Erik not quickly asserted more will over _it_ too. Moira was only halfway across the road, and if the cars didn't slip out of Erik's grasp and kill her, he was going to do it himself.

"Do you mind if I…" Charles wiggled his fingers in the air with an uncertain frown on his face, and under other circumstances Erik might have made a comment about the somewhat obscene gesture, or about the fact that Charles was asking if he could finger his brain. Things being what they were though, all he did was hesitate a mere moment before shaking his head, giving Charles permission to enter his mind for the first time since they were kids.

It almost completely broke Erik's concentration to feel Charles' cinnamon tea presence merge with his own consciousness. He couldn't even tell where his mind ended, and Charles' presence began. He could even feel Charles' amusement at his thoughts. It was exhilarating, overwhelming, and somehow _much_ more intimate than anything that Erik could imagine.

Erik was brought back to the physical world with a jolt, however, as another car tried to swerve around the corner and he was forced to add _it _to the pile of vehicles he was holding back.

_'Whatever you're planning on doing Charles, make it quick_,'

And then a memory was flashing behind his eyes, like a film seen on a projector, and Erik's eyes pricked with tears of their own accord. It was his mother. Somehow, Charles had managed to find the memories of his mother.

She was wearing that lilac dress she favoured on special occasions, and as she smiled warmly at Erik, leaning down to kiss his forehead before lighting the candles of a cake, he knew that it was his eighth birthday. It was almost painful to see how very much she loved him, the way her eyes were bright with joy as they all sang Happy Birthday to a highly embarrassed, but pleased, younger Erik, and somewhere in the distance, Erik could feel Charles words repeated. _The point between rage and serenity_.

Taking a breath, Erik adjusted the way he was holding the cars and trucks, and was almost startled at how easy it felt now, how, with only the slightest twitch of his pinkie, he was able to take hold of the _ring_ Moira was wearing and pull her across the road. Once she was out of the way, Erik gently released one side of the road, taking care to keep a small amount of will over the cars so that the drivers didn't lose control and cause other accidents. Finally, Erik felt he could let all the cars go, and it was so _simple _that he was grinning with joy at it all, laughing once in his shock.

He could feel that there were tears on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he turned to look at Charles, a wide smile on his face. Not the awkward half smile-half grimace he usually wore, but a proper grin that revealed his teeth and awe. Erik's smile simply increased as he saw Charles surreptitiously wipe his own tear away, though he was almost disappointed when he felt Charles' presence fade to the back of his mind again.

"I … I thought I'd forgotten," Erik breathed, and Charles smiled gently at him.

"There's so much _more _to you than you realise," he assured him, his tone soft and revealing how much he believed it that, for a moment, Erik was stunned and he was forced to look back outside into the street, where Moira was still completely unaware of the fact that he'd just saved her life.

Charles came to stand beside him, and, after a few seconds of silence, gently placed a hand on Erik's shoulder. He squeezed once, and then walked away, leaving Erik to his thoughts. Erik watched him as he went, partially wanting to ask him to stay, and partially needing a few moments to himself.

As Charles looked back over his shoulder though, giving Erik another small smile before closing the door, Erik came to realise something he'd been trying to deny. He didn't have a crush on Charles – He absolutely _loved_ him. Loved him so much that his chest actually hurt to think about it, and he'd been a fool to think that this was going to go away any time soon, and all Erik was able to do was wipe away the residue of his – manly, and therefore totally acceptable – tears with the sleeve of his turtleneck and laugh softly at the unlikeliness of it all. But, for once, Erik wasn't afraid that he'd screw it up, because this was Charles, and Charles made him feel like he was actually capable of things …

Things like stopping traffic to save the life of a foolish human girl.

~X~

With December, came the end of Erik's first year at Oxford, and he could honestly say that he was looking forward to having _weeks _to spend browsing through the library's collection without other students annoying him, since practically every one of them would be going home to their parents for the Christmas season.

Erik should have known that Charles would ruin that for him. Three days before Christmas, the telepath let himself into Erik's room and looked around at the mess with horror.

"What are you doing? You're not even packed yet! The car's leaving in an hour, with or without us! Well, that last part's probably not true since they can't leave without me, but I want to go _home _Erik!"

Erik looked up at Charles from behind his book with complete, and utter bewilderment.

"What are you _talking_ about Charles? And – Charles, why are you pulling out my suitcase?"

Hurriedly, Erik marked his place in the book and scrambled out of the way as Charles began throwing the contents of one of his shelves at him.

"Please don't give me that right now Erik. As I said, the driver's waiting for us and -" Charles suddenly stopped and looked over at Erik as though something had just occurred to him, "Oh. Oh no. I _did_ tell you that I was taking you with me for Christmas didn't I?"

Feeling his carefully planned holiday of sleeping and reading shatter around him, Erik shook his head forlornly.

"Oh. Well, uh … Now you know! So, hurry up and help me pack what you'll need for the holidays would you?"

Erik sighed heavily before walking into the bathroom to collect his toiletries, seeing no point in arguing with Charles since the younger man had _clearly_ made up his mind about the matter.

He was just trying to decide how much of his school work to bring with him considering he was already two months into the next year, when he heard Charles make a noise of surprise.

Instincts taking over, Erik picked up the screws lying on the bathroom basin and held them in front of him, ready to maim whoever would dare startle Charles. The screws fell rather quickly when he saw that Charles was perfectly fine, and was in fact sitting on the clothing-littered bed, his eyes fixed on the small mitten held in his hand.

Erik was torn between horror that Charles had found it, and thinking _Oh. That's when it began_.

All through his years, Erik never _had_ been able to throw that mitten out. Even when he could no longer remember why, his mind just absolutely refused to let him get rid of it, and so it had gone with him through his high school years, and even managed to come along for the ride to England.

Well, at least now he remembered why he wasn't able to get rid of it. It reminded him of all those times he'd walked home holding Charles' hand cos he'd been too stubborn to bring his own mittens along.

"I … Can't believe you kept it," Charles whispered, a strange tone to his voice. It almost sounded like awe, but Erik couldn't fathom why Charles would be awed about this, so decided he was misreading the tone.

For his part, Erik remained silent as he leant against the doorframe to the bathroom, trying to figure out how he was going to explain that he'd kept that mitten because he'd, apparently, loved Charles since he was a child. It was crazy, to say the least. Especially since he'd forgotten who Charles was.

Quite suddenly, Charles leapt to his feet and started babbling, "What am I doing spacing out? We need to hurry up! Poor Frederick is probably becoming really impatient waiting."

When he was sure Charles was looking elsewhere, preoccupied with stuffing more of Erik's trousers into the suitcase, Erik picked the mitten up and stowed it away in the drawer again.

For a moment there, he thought Charles had seen, because as he closed the drawer, Erik realised he couldn't hear the sound of clothes rustling. When he turned to look at Charles though, he was flicking out one of Erik's shirts before trying to cram _it_ into the suitcase as well. Erik couldn't really see from where he was standing, but he thought that Charles might have been smiling.

Before he was able to give it anymore thought though, Charles zipped the bag up and fixed him with a stern look, "Are you ready?"  
>Erik heaved a deep sigh before nodding and Charles almost ran out the door, leaving Erik to pick the suitcase up and hover it along behind him. Before he closed and locked the door, however, Erik paused to slide a small parcel out from under his bed and stow it away in his jacket pocket.<p>

He just managed to zip the pocket up before Charles rushed back around the corner to see what was taking Erik so long. Erik simply sighed again, already lamenting the loss of his relaxed holiday break.

. . .

When Erik first saw Charles' 'home', his jaw fell open with surprise. "You live _here_?" he asked, his eyes taking in the mansion with no small amount of envy.

Charles was scratching at his cheek with embarrassment as he muttered, "Well, yes."

Erik had known that Charles was rich – It was obvious in the way he dressed, in the way he spoke, in the bag he used for school. But … This? This was more than Erik had expected. He couldn't believe that Charles was happy to spend his time at the on-campus Uni when he had the option of staying _here_.

"Well, come along then. I'd better show you your room. I've set you up in the room directly opposite mine. I hope that's alright," Charles rambled as he took hold of Erik's arm and led him through the entry hall.

. . .

It took Erik a full day of staying at the mansion before he was able to get over the shock that Charles actually owned the place, and even then he still felt uncomfortable being there. As if his presence was unfit for such opulence.

But then he walked into the kitchen to find Charles standing at the stove, his tongue sticking out between his teeth with concentration, and Erik felt something deep within melt just a little at the sight.

Then the kitchen fire alarm starting going off, Charles yelled out, "What did I do _this_ time?", and Erik couldn't help but snort.

"Surprise, surprise. Rich boy can't cook," he tutted as he walked up behind Charles, who jumped a mile in the air at the sound, before looking over his shoulder at Erik with a pout on his lips. Looking into the pan, Erik saw the charred remains of what looked like what was meant to be eggs in another lifetime, perhaps.

It was too much, and Erik burst into laughter, Charles hissing "Eriiiiiiik!" as he beat his fists on the taller man's chest, spatula still in hand. Erik, naturally, caught Charles' flailing Spatula-filled hand with one hand, and wiped at tears of mirth in his eye with the other.

That was when he looked down at Charles and realised with shock that Charles' mouth was parted ever so slightly, his cheeks flushed a deep red as he looked up at Erik with wide eyes.

Before Erik could think about it any more, Raven darted into the kitchen screeching, "What did you burn this time Charles?" She stopped dead at the sight she was met by, however, and just said, "Oh," apparently as confused as Erik.

Releasing Charles' wrist in a hurry, Erik reached around and turned the stovetop off before something _else_ could start to burn, like his cheeks, because they were positively flaming right then, and he wasn't even one hundred percent sure why.

"Erik, I didn't realise you'd be here," Raven ventured, and Erik glanced over his shoulder at her as he tossed the contents of the frying pan.

"Neither did I, until I was dragged here."

At the words, Raven's eyes widened slightly, before she turned to look at Charles, who had moved from the stove and was, instead, busying himself in the fridge. And for a moment, Erik was distracted by the fact that Charles was bending over - and how was it that Erik had never stopped to appreciate the perfection that was Charles' behind before? and - _Not _now_ Lensherr_, Erik's mind hissed at him – before he arched an eyebrow at the stiff way that Charles was moving, suddenly feeling very much like he was missing something.

The feeling was simply exemplified when he turned to look back at Raven to find her staring at him, her mouth curled into that same knowing smile that Azazel often wore.

Erik scowled deeply at her before throwing the frying pan into the sink and returning back to his room to get a few more hours of sleep.

. . .

It was almost midday before Erik left his room again, and as he wandered aimlessly down along the halls, he thought it almost strange that he hadn't seen any housemaids or butlers or anything you'd expect with a house this size.

His meandering stopped when he heard merry whistling though, and Erik sighed softly at the sound, before backtracking to look inside the room. As he'd expected, there was Charles.

What he hadn't expected, however, was for Charles to be standing on tiptoe at the top of a ladder, hanging what looked to be Christmas decorations. He looked so happy as he was doing it, Erik was quite content to lean against the doorframe and watch, wearing a small smile of his own has he did so.

Erik frowned with concern, however, when Charles started to stretch for a point that Erik thought was just that little bit out of his reach and then – _Of course_– the ladder that Charles had been standing on started to sway beneath him.

With a quick flick of Erik's fingers, the ladder flicked around beneath Charles' feet and he was able to regain his balance.

"I will never understand why you can't just ask for help," Erik commented dryly as Charles breathed out a sigh of relief before he returned to hanging the tinsel up on the wall. Erik raised the ladder up a little bit so that Charles didn't have to stretch so high.

"I didn't think I would need it. Seems I was mistaken."

Erik rolled his eyes, and then jolted the ladder that little bit so that Charles cried out in surprise. "Might want to hurry up with your decorations Charles, who knows how long I'll be able to keep this up for."

It was a lie, of course, keeping something as light as a ladder afloat was simple, even with Charles' weight on top of that. Erik thought it amusing the way that Charles hastened to finish sticking the decorations up anyway though, even if he did send a pointed _Jerk_, in Erik's direction.

Erik's response was to lower the ladder back down so that Charles wasn't able to reach the point he wanted the star to stick. When the telepath glared over his shoulder at the metal bender, Erik simply smirked at him, before raising and lowering the ladder in jerky motions – Not jarring enough to actually make Charles lose his footing, but certainly enough that he felt it.

. . .

Ordinarily, Erik couldn't have cared less about Christmas, or Hanukkah, or whatever else it was that people celebrated in the holiday period. Why would he? He had no one to celebrate it with. It was just a holiday, which meant a chance to work as much as possible and actually try to save some money.

To say that his Christmas' in earlier years were complete opposites to the one he was spending now, would not be stretching the truth at all. This year, he actually had someone to spend Christmas with after all. He had a reason to celebrate it, someone he wanted to give something to. This year, he was with Charles, and that made all the difference.

That didn't mean that when Charles sent him a loud and pointed, "_Wake UP Erik!",_he didn't still want to strangle him though. Especially since there was no way to avoid Charles' thoughts when he intentionally made them loud, and Erik's want to throttle him simply increased when a look at his clock revealed it to be six in the morning.

_Charles, fuck off until a reasonable hour, _Erik thought back before rolling over and pulling the covers tighter around his body.

He had just settled and was about to fall back asleep when his bedroom door was thrown open with a loud crash, and through a half-cracked, sleep-caked eye, Erik could see a determined Charles, who was still wearing his chequered flannelette pyjama's.

"Come on, get up Erik! It's Christmas morning and we can't start _anything_ without you!"

"Yes you bloody well can," Erik snapped, actually pulling the covers up over his head as if that would make it all go away. Erik counted down the seconds until Charles pulled them back off his head. He got to three before he was assaulted by sunlight, and blue eyes.

"Please Erik? I promise I'll make it up to you," and Erik had to blink a few times to bury the assorted images that statement brought to mind.

"How?" he growled, hoping Charles didn't manage to catch any of those thoughts.

"How do you feel about waffles?"

Erik was silent for a few seconds, before he groaned loudly and said, "They had better be _smothered_ with syrup Charles!", and Charles, stupidly-energetic Charles considering the hour, threw his arms up into the air and whooped.

As a shuffling noise passed the door, Erik could see Raven stumbling past, her hair in complete disarray as she pulled her dressing gown tight around her. She scowled heavily when she saw Charles, and Erik couldn't help but feel pleased it wasn't only him suffering through Charles' enthusiasm for Christmas morning.

. . .

Three plates of Waffles later – Waffles that Charles had bought from the supermarket the night before and simply had to toast, so they were only _slightly_ burnt – and with good, _strong_ cup of coffee in his hand, Erik and Raven were ushered into the room Charles had decorated the day before.

As he walked into it now, Erik felt himself instantly wake up with surprise. The smell of pine assaulted him as he entered the room, the aroma coming from a tree that certainly hadn't been there when he'd hovered Charles around the room just yesterday. There were so many baubles hanging off it, glinting in the morning light, that Erik was surprised it didn't just tip over. Of course, he supposed, it might do just that if it didn't have that ridiculous pile of presents sitting beneath it.

Charles practically skipped past Erik as he stood in the doorway, jaw open slightly. As he passed, Charles spun about with his hands behind his back as he turned, giving Erik a sunny smile as he went.

"Impressed?" he asked, a decidedly smug note to his tone. And it was that which made Erik decide to play with Charles a touch.

"Disappointed," Erik sighed, looking up at the ostentatious tree with a well practised look of indifference.

"Disappointed?" Charles repeated, clearly not believing his ears as he placed a hand on his hip and arched an eyebrow.

"Absolutely. Where are the fluttering fairies, Charles? The reindeer?"

And Charles blinked in surprise at him for a moment, before his mouth broke into a disbelieving grin as he pushed at Erik's shoulder. "Damn it Erik! Just go sit down would you?"

Chuckling softly, Erik did as he was told, sipping at his coffee as he did so. Apparently used to the sight, Raven had taken Charles' brief distraction as a chance to curl up on the plushest chair, looking as if she would fall asleep right there.

The handing out of the gifts was a long and tedious process that slowly drained the small amount of energy the coffee had given Erik. He was always surprised into wakefullness when Charles bounced over to him with something, however. He truly hadn't expected a single thing, and yet … He now sat with a pile of fifteen presents at least. Some of which had actually come from Raven, which came as a shock, and Erik actually felt a little guilty about the fact that he hadn't thought to get her anything.

He was equally surprised when he realised that there was a gift for him from Azazel, and even one from Hank, and he silently cursed the fact that he hadn't even _thought _to give them something.

When he opened Azazel's gift however – A handsome new leather jacket – he found a card that said _Both Hank and I are fully aware you wouldn't have thought to give us something, so don't feel guilty. We're just as sure that Charles in fact prepares us something with your name on it. Just you wait – Raven will have received at least two things from you that you don't remember buying._

As soon as he finished reading the note, Raven exclaimed with shock "Jeez Lensherr, I didn't realise you actually had taste!" and Erik looked up to see her holding out a dazzling sea green dress that he certainly did _not_ remember buying. Glancing over at Charles with a cocked eyebrow, Charles simply shrugged, completely unrepentant

. . .

It seemed to take an age, but finally Charles said with a flourish, "And the last one is for Erik!" and Raven actually sighed with relief.

Erik hesitated a moment before sending an apologetic look at the cerulean-skinned woman, and said, "Wait. There's one more" as he summoned the parcel he'd brought along with him down the stairs, his heart pounding a little in his chest as he did so.

Swallowing anxiously, but feigning carelessness, Erik set the gift on Charles' knee. If he were honest, Erik was nervous about Charles' reaction to the present. He had spent _weeks _trying to decide on what to get him – After all, what could you get a man who seemed to already have everything he needed? – When he had stumbled upon something on his way back from the bookstore.

Even then Erik had been immensely unsure about it – But he'd ended up leaving the antique store with the trinket regardless. As he sat there, knee bouncing up and down with nerves while Charles pulled the small box apart, Erik began to question his decision all over again.

"Oh," was all Charles breathed as he plucked a ring out of box, and Raven slid herself off the couch to peer at the ring also, echoing the sentiment, which only furthered Erik's anxiety. Was 'Oh' meant to be a good, or a bad reaction?

The ring was a delicate thing made up of three bands woven together - one part silver, one gold, and another ice-blue glass. The blue was what had initially attracted Erik to it – It was the same unnatural shade of blue as Charles' eyes, after all – but as he'd taken a closer look, Erik had found that he'd been completely fascinated by it's design. Simple though the ring looked at first, upon closer inspection, the two metals had been painstakingly carved so that they resembled ivy that twisted and turned around the blue glass. And somehow, _somehow_, it had reminded Erik of Charles, so he'd bought it.

As Charles sat there, simply looking at the gift in his hand, Erik began to fidget. Had he chosen wrong? It wasn't as though he had much experience with buying presents for people after all. When he'd grudgingly asked Azazel's advice, the mutant had told him 'Simply get something that makes you think of Charles', and that ring certainly _had _made him think of Charles. Perhaps it had been too feminine a choice – He could have just as easily bought the genetics book he'd seen in the bookstore and –

"Erik, please stop fidgeting," Charles said suddenly, and Erik made a point to hold his body tight enough that he could feel each muscle as it twitched. Sometime during Erik's mental-panic, Raven had returned to her own couch and was snoring softly where she'd curled up.

He relaxed a little when Charles slipped the ring onto his ring finger though, gracing Erik with one of those warm, immeasurably happy smiles as he did so, "Thankyou Erik, it's beautiful," the telepath crooned, and Erik allowed himself to relax a little more.

"You're sure? I have the receipt still, so I can take it back if you –"

He cut himself off when Charles glared at him, though the glare was considerably less threatening when you took Charles' smile into account. A grin started to break through Erik's uncertainty as he noticed the way that Charles turned his hand to watch the ring as it caught in the light, a happy smile tugging at the brunette's lips as he did so.

"Absolutely not. It's mine now. Now, please stop worrying and open the rest of _your _presents," and Charles' tone left absolutely no room for objection.

As he tore into the rest of his gifts – Leather bound notebooks, a new messenger bag, turtlenecks that felt like liquid in his hands – Erik couldn't help but notice that Charles constantly looked down at his hand, and smiled like a fool every time that he did. It was enough to make Erik grin with pleasure, glad he managed to do this Christmas thing _right_, even if he did neglect to think of anyone outside of Charles.

* * *

><p>I honestly <em>agonised<em> about the Ring - Was it too girly a gift, was it strange that Erik gave it to him, should I change it? On and on my concerns went. In the end, I decided that I liked it enough to keep it as it is. Besides which, I couldn't think of what else Erik could give to Charles ... And then there was also the idea that, by giving Charles a ring ... Erik was giving himself a way to keep track of Charles in the same way that Charles keeps track of his mind. *shrug* It was that implication that made my mind up for me, in the end.

Also, because it was asked on my LJ when I posted the chapter there ... Erik _is_ in fact Jewish, because, that's what he is in canon.  
>However, my thoughts for <em>this <em>Erik were that, while he surely celebrated Hanukkah with his mother while he was young, once he moved to the orphanage, it would have been Christmas they celebrated. As he grew up though, I believe that Erik simply came to not care what it was that was celebrated - Hanukkah, Christmas ... What difference did it make? It wasn't like he had anyone to celebrate it with, regardless of which it was. So, the holiday season simply became a time in which he could earn that little bit of extra money.  
>I feel I should also point out that the Christmas Charles celebrates isn't a religious Christmas. Rather, just a time to celebrate being with family and exchange thoughtful gifts =)<p>

... Soooo ... I hope that nobody particularly cared too much about the fact that I had Erik celebrate Christmas in this. It isn't as though I had any ill-intent behind it, and it was actually something I hadn't even thought about until I was asked about it. But, because I _was_ asked about it over there ... I thought that maybe I should explain that here too.

And now that all that is out of the way ... Hope that you liked the chapter, with all it's clueless Erik and Fluffy goodness~ ... And not making a parallel of the Satellite scene was never an option, haha!

Until next time guys~


	5. When the past rears it's ugly head

My god you guys - Thankyou for the reviews on the last chapter. I can't even begin to explain how happy it makes me to see them, or how happy it makes me to know that you're enjoying the fic. So, really, thankyou so much for taking the time to leave a note to let me know that you liked a chapter - it means more than you can imagine. Big hugs for you all!

And, now ... I hope that you also like this chapter =)

* * *

><p>A week had passed since Christmas, and Charles still refused to take the decorations down, and Erik simply didn't care enough to make him. They made Charles happy and, as much as Erik hated admitting it, seeing Charles happy had a tendency to make him happy.<p>

Which was precisely why Erik was in the local grocer's at that time, hunting through the shelves for that particular brand of ice-cream that Charles favoured. It was possible that if he hadn't been there, the events that followed wouldn't have happened. But fate seemed to enjoy throwing curveballs at him.

It wasn't until he was almost back at Charles' mansion that Erik realised he was being followed. There was that distinctive sound to someone's footsteps when they were following you, and the person behind Erik had that tone. Naturally, he would be followed home the one time Erik had been forced to use his every coin to pay for the groceries.

Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder to assess the one following him, to decide whether he'd be able to take them on physical strength alone. Erik was completely startled, and, frankly, a little bit afraid, when he realised the one following him was none other than the one he'd come to England to avoid.

"Shaw," Erik greeted, his eyes narrowing as he reached out to whatever metal he could find. The fire hydrant – That'll be useful.

Shaw simply smiled pleasantly at him as though it hadn't been a year since they'd parted and began to walk towards Erik, looking every bit a panther toying with its prey. "Erik. Dear Erik, I've been wondering where you'd vanished to."

"I intended it that way," Erik replied, trying to keep his tone neutral and mask any intimidation he felt at Shaw's presence. He remembered how unpredictable Shaw's temper could be, and he would _rather _this ended without bloodshed.

'_Erik, you need to come back. Right now. You can't take him alone_.' Charles was whispering to him, a distinct concern to his presence.

_'It's not that simple with Shaw, Charles.'_

_ 'Then I'm coming out.' _Erik's stomach plummeted to the ground and his mouth went dry at the thought of Charles meeting Shaw face to face, and he knew then that he needed to find out what Shaw wanted, and fast. He couldn't let Charles get mixed up in this.

"What is it that you're looking for, Shaw?"

"How cold and distant of you Erik! I must admit, meeting you here was a surprise, but it's a pleasant one, right?" Shaw asked, his mouth stretching into that maniacal grin, and with that alone Erik knew that this meeting was not going to end peacefully.

"I can't say that I return the sentiment, unfortunately." Metal, metal … There had to be _something _nearby he could make use of. Oh, there was an iron fence a few houses down. That could help if things became dire.

"Erik, you didn't really think I'd let you slip out of my grasp did you?" Shaw was saying as he stood a few paces away from Erik, a chill to his voice now and Erik understood that he'd pissed him off. He could see it in those cold, emotionless eyes, "After all the effort I spent to bring you to me in the first place?"

The words took Erik completely by surprise, and though he could hear Charles saying '_Ignore him. Ignore it. He's just trying to bait you. Wait Erik, please. I'm almost there_,' Erik's green-grey eyes still narrowed suspiciously.

"I came to Brooklyn cos that's where the police dumped me. It certainly wasn't by your power."

Shaw's grin, if possible, stretched even further, and Erik knew he was being baited, knew that Shaw was leading him down a path, and that Erik was following that path magnificently, but he could also feel a nagging sensation somewhere in his mind. Like he was on the verge of discovering something important.

'_Don't listen. Please don't listen.'_

"Ah, you mean you still don't know? I have to say I'm actually disappointed Erik. Did you lose your drive for revenge then?" '_Don't listen to him. Don't listen to him. Almost – I'm just around the corner'. _"So you won't care if I tell you it was _me_ who killed your mother then?"

The earth stood still, Erik's mind came to a complete halt. He couldn't even feel Charles anymore as the words pounded through him. _It was me who killed your mother. Me who killed your mother. Killed your mother_. And Erik saw that day again, saw the blood spatters on the wall, felt the anguish all over again. The police files he stole came swimming to his mind, he remembered that the autopsy had said she'd been brutally tortured, before finally receiving a bullet to the head. All those years he'd spent searching, wanting vengeance – And he'd been instead _protecting_ the bastard who'd done it?

"You – Fucking – _Why_," Erik snarled

"Because I wanted you, of course." Erik didn't even hear the rest of what Shaw was saying, his blood was pounding in his ears too loudly. He could hear Charles all but yelling _No Erik, no! He's not worth it. Not worth it_, but Charles didn't understand – How could he? His father had died by an accident. His mother had been murdered – The one person he'd had in his life had been murdered, and all because this son of a bitch had "wanted" Erik? For what, his power?

An animalistic growl ripped its way from Erik's throat as he wrenched the iron bars off the gate, fully intending of ramming them down Shaw's throat. Each and every fucking one of them.

Shaw simply smirked as if things had gone according to plan – and maybe they had, but Erik didn't care right then. He was _going_ to avenge his mother's death. – before he began to run in the opposite direction, Erik following after him with single-minded determination.

Erik could feel that Charles was gaining on them, he could feel the ring slowly coming closer, and he still didn't care. The only acknowledgement that Erik gave the telepath was '_Stay the fuck away Charles_' as he proceeded to chase Shaw down, hurling the bars like javelins as he went, only to pick them back up as he passed.

And Shaw was laughing as he went, somehow dancing around the bars that Erik was throwing as if he'd developed a new mutation in Erik's absence, "Come now Erik, Surely I trained you better than that? Or has your new telepath made you weak?"

If Erik had been seeing red before, his entire self _became_ red at the fact that Shaw was even _daring_ to comment about Charles.

"You know _nothing_," he hissed, bending the bars and hurling them in a curving arc like boomerangs, hoping to knock Shaw's feet out from beneath him. Still Shaw managed to dodge them, and Erik let loose a roar of frustration.

All of a sudden, Shaw stopped moving, and Erik automatically skidded to a halt himself, suspecting a trick. But it wasn't that Shaw had stopped running, Erik realised and he stood there, tense and waiting, it was that he had actually been _stopped_, like someone had hit a giant pause button.

Behind him came heavy panting, and Erik would have thrown one of the iron bars at the noise instinctively if he hadn't felt the ring that Charles was wearing.

"I thought I told you not to come!"

"Erik, please just be quiet. I can't hold him like this for long. I need you to bind his arms."

Realising that, whatever Charles was doing, Shaw was absolutely no threat, Erik watched his frozen form thoughtfully, a bar drifted through that air as he did so. If not for Charles, he wouldn't even hesitate to kill him – How long had he spent _dreaming_ about exacting his revenge on his mother's killer? And here was the perfect opportunity, the killer unable to move even a muscle. And yet, infuriatingly, Erik was reluctant to let Charles see him in that light.

"I should just kill him," he said slowly, circling around to look into Shaw's frozen face as he went, feeling the anger and years of pain well up deep inside of him.

"No. No Erik. Killing Shaw won't bring you peace."

Erik barely even looked over at Charles as he spoke, "What if 'peace' was never an option? Because of this arsehole, my mother is dead."

"I appreciate that Erik, and I can understand your want, truly I can. Shaw ordered your mother's death, and he wasn't even man enough to do the job himself. But you need to be the better man Erik, you can't let yourself sink to his level. You're so much better than that, and this is the time to prove that."

Charles' eyes were wide and pleading, but Erik was too focused on Charles' words to even breathe. As much as that explains why he'd never suspected Shaw had a hand in his mother's demise … How did Charles …?

For the second time that day, Erik world felt as though it had just upended itself. "How can you possibly know that_?_" he asked in a dangerously low hiss, his eyes locking onto Charles' form, and the guilty look that flickered over Charles' face was enough to make Erik take a step back as if he'd just been sucker punched.

"Erik, can we please discuss this some other time. My control is slipping," Charles panted, and Erik could see the bead of sweat as it made its way down Charles' brow, could see how difficult Charles was finding it to keep Shaw frozen, and, for the first time since becoming reacquainted with his childhood friend, he _didn't _care – couldn't bring himself to. Not with the realisation that Charles had kept information about the death of his mother to himself. Erik felt as though he'd been betrayed, and considering how few people he let get close to him as it was, that was entirely unacceptable.

"No. We're _not_ discussing this," he hissed softly, and Charles' eyes widened to the point that he looked like he'd just been slapped. It was enough to make Erik nigh desperate to get away, as if he wasn't already at that point.

His hands moving automatically, Erik twisted an iron bar around Shaw's arms and legs to ensure the bastard couldn't escape – Let Charles do with him what he saw fit - and then he did something he had thought previously unthinkable. Erik pulled another bar up and held the tip of it tight against Charles' throat, looking at the man he'd come to love with cold and detached eyes.

"Get out of my mind – Completely," Erik growled, and the bar was held so tightly against Charles' throat that he could feel the telepath's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, his eyes still entirely too wide, yet strangely devoid of fear.

It was positively killing Erik that he was being forced to do this, turn his powers against Charles like this – But how could he trust Charles again after the younger man had just revealed himself privy to information about the murder of his mother? How _could_ he have kept that to himself, knowing what it had meant to Erik?

As he felt Charles withdraw, leaving Erik's mind his own once again, he ruefully thought he should have expected it. Should have expected something like this would happen. He had always thought that Charles was entirely too innocent, and too trusting. Erik had always suspected he'd end up doing something that would break him – And he could see that it was; He could see it in the firm line that was Charles' mouth, in the way his eyebrows had curled in on themselves. He could see it in those ridiculously large, blue eyes as they searched Erik's beseechingly.

It was just fucking annoying that walking away the way he was about to was breaking him too.

The second Erik felt an emptiness where Charles' presence had lingered, he started backing away, his grey-green eyes locked on Charles as he went, his expression a mask of cool indifference. His eyes flicked over to the still-frozen Shaw, and he wanted, oh how he _wanted_ to tighten those iron bars to the point that they actually crushed the man into _pieces_. But he didn't, he couldn't bring himself to. Possibly because Charles was right there, and his eyes were still searching Erik's face for something unseen, seemingly unaware that there was a tear rolling down his cheek… Or possibly because Charles' words _Be the better man _were still resounding in his head.

Whichever it was, Erik simply walked away. He walked until he could no longer see Charles, and then he ran until he could only just feel the metal that he'd been holding to Charles' throat – which he quickly allowed to fall to the ground – and he ran some more, until he couldn't feel a single band of metal that was wrapped around Charles' finger.

~X~

It was weeks before Erik finally stopped running. Weeks before he realised that he couldn't run anymore – He'd used up all his savings and could no longer afford to rent out cheap, motel rooms. Couldn't even afford to buy himself something to eat, or another beer to try and help the pain. Not to mention he was in desperate need of a shave.

And so, it was with great reluctance that Erik caught the bus t hat would take him back to Oxford University, his stomach clenching uncomfortably the entire way. Not that Erik needed to worry about running into anyone, it was still summer break and the campus was practically empty. In some ways, that just made it worse.

He was almost disappointed, but mostly unsurprised, when he opened his room to find that everything he'd taken to Charles' was sitting neatly on the lower bunk, including the things he received for Christmas. There was no note to be found among his things - no heartfelt apology for keeping something like knowledge about his mother's killer to himself, not even an irritated little message telling him that he didn't understand, and that annoyed Erik in ways he knew it shouldn't, all things considered.

But then Erik saw the woven ring sitting atop his desk, and Erik's chest suddenly felt as though it had been ripped open. The breath was knocked out of him, and he fell onto the lower bunk with his head nestled in his hands, trying to calm the trembling of his shoulders.

How had everything gone from being so _right_, to so _wrong_ in such a short time?

~X~

Several more weeks pass in which Erik all but throws himself into his schoolwork, so much so that his professors start sending him emails that tell him that 'As much as I admire your enthusiasm Erik – I'm on holiday. You should be too', and when he runs out of work he can do without the teacher's assistance, Erik goes to the gym and trains. He trains and beats the boxing bag into a pulp until his knuckles hurt, and then he trains some more.

When he tires of the gym, Erik moves to the library – making a point to ignore that corner with the chess set that had been abandoned - and devours each and every book on Electrical theory, or magnetical theory, or anything even remotely related to those, starting from 'A' and working himself through the Alphabet.

Erik is fully aware that he's behaving like a madman, doing everything in his power to keep himself busy, but he can't help it. If he lets himself stop, he starts to think, and if he starts to think, he starts to think about Charles, and then he starts to mope, which is entirely unacceptable.

He's just about to start to read the first book under "O", when he turns around and is met by an infuriated Moira MacTaggert. Erik can practically see her hair bristling as she shoves him back into the bookcase.

"What did you _do _to him?" she demands, completely bypassing all small talk, and Erik, for just a moment, admires this, before he realises she's making it sound like he was the one who had been in the wrong.

"I didn't do a single thing, perhaps you should be asking -"

"_Don't_ fuck with me Lensherr. I will maim you in so many ways before finally killing you, you'd think that death was a mercy. So tell me what it was that you _did_ to him, right _now_, if only so I can make a punishment that fits."

It's the vehemence behind her words, the desperation in her eyes, that makes Erik realise that maybe, just maybe, something is actually wrong with Charles, and the thought completely chases away all thoughts of 'wronged' and 'betrayed'.

"What's wrong with him?"

Moira's glare intensifies before pushing Erik into the bookcase again, and if it weren't for the fact that she was simply a pathetic human that Charles was fond of, Erik might actually push her back.

"Why don't you tell me, Lensherr? He hardly eats, does little more than sleep, keeps sighing about 'Screwing everything up', and refuses to leave his room! Raven _forced_ him to come back here early hoping that I'd be able to help him, and nothing has! Nothing is _working_, and seeing as it was simply you and Raven he spent his holiday with, suffice to say, the problem _must_ lie with you – So _fix it_," Moira stopped for a moment, breathing heavily and Erik looking at her with wide, bewildered eyes, before she suddenly burst into tears, burying her face in her hands, which Erik thought might be even worse than her aggressive questioning.

"I don't know what's wrong with him, but you're the only one that means enough to make him react this way, so, _please _fix it. He hasn't been himself for weeks, and I don't know what to do anymore."

Erik sighed softly as he made a point to ignore Moira's blubbering. On the one hand, he was concerned about the fact that Charles was clearly neglecting his health, but on the other …

Apparently, his concern for Charles outweighed the fact that he was still mad at him.

"Alright. Alright, fine. Just, shut up already," Erik growled, and Moira looked at him resentfully through her watery eyes, though Erik was relieved the obnoxious sobbing had stopped. "I'll see him, but don't expect it to be magically better because of that. If anything, it'll probably just make things worse," he muttered as he stalked away and up to Charles' room, feeling heavier with each and every step, completely unaware that Moira was smirking victoriously at his retreating back.

. . .

By the time that Erik came to stand before room 404, he was wondering how exactly Moira had managed to convince him to come here in the first place. Even if it had bothered him that Charles wasn't well … Did that overwrite what Erik saw as a betrayal?

He took a steadying breath before pulling the flimsy lock aside and entered the room nevertheless though.

When Erik first caught sight of Charles, he was immensely glad he _had_ come after all, because he couldn't recall a time when he'd seen Charles look less refined than he looked right then.

His hair was a right mess and looked as though it hadn't been brushed in weeks, sticking up at odd angles that Erik was irrationally inclined to smooth down. His eyes were watery and red-rimmed, and looked very much like he hadn't left the bed.

The thing that convinced Erik he'd done the right thing by coming by, however, was the fact that Charles was wearing what was clearly one of Erik's turtleneck sweaters. Even as Charles looked over at him reproachfully from the nest of blankets he was nestled in, the sight of Charles in _his_ turtleneck spoke more than words could – It didn't even occur to Erik to wonder how Charles had got his hands on one of them.

"And_ what_ brings you here?" Charles muttered, pointedly rolling over so that his back was facing Erik. Erik simply swallowed a sigh and sat down with his back resting against the bedframe.

"Moira demanded I come 'fix you'," Erik said blandly, not even bothering to try and cover for the girl. Charles would find out eventually anyway, and it wasn't as though Erik was inclined to help her out, even if he did respect her a _slight_ amount more now that he'd seen what she was willing to do for someone she cared about … Though the crying had still been annoying.

"I don't need 'fixing', thankyou very much. I'm perfectly _fine_."

"Oh, yes. And you look it too Charles. Tell me, when was the last time you bathed?"

Erik raised his eyebrows and cocked his head towards Charles' form as the silence stretched on, the very silence emanating off the other man screaming 'Irritation'. Still, Erik sat there waiting, deciding that now that he was here … They may as well get this over with. He rather missed Charles' presence, now that he was allowing himself to think about it.

Eventually, Charles huffed before saying softly, "There was a _reason_ why I never told you, by the way. And it _wasn't_ because I was keeping things from you, or anything equally asinine that I'm sure you've accused me of. I was going to tell you …" Scowling heavily, Erik opened his mouth to retort angrily, but Charles pre-empted that by raising his voice, "I was _afraid_, okay? I was just fucking afraid."

The confession startled Erik enough that his anger was temporarily replaced with surprise. In all the time he'd known Charles, he'd _never_ known him to be afraid, and the very idea of Charles being afraid of anything was unsettling. Slowly, Erik asked, "Of _what_?" his tone still uncertain.

"Of what would happen if I told you." Erik had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from saying anything as his temper flared. Instead, he waited for Charles to explain himself. Hesitantly, Charles did just that, "I knew that if I told you, you'd hunt Shaw down. You'd have thrown everything away for the chance of revenge, and I wanted more for you than that. Was that so wrong?"

"It wasn't your choice to make Charles."

"And what if I'd told you Erik, what then? You go hunt down Shaw, kill him and then end up being locked away for life because you're a dangerous mutant? No my friend, I wasn't going to let you suffer that fate – I care for you too darn much for something like that."

Erik's mouth had just opened to growl about his life and his choices, when it closed again with a stunned snap. There was a sudden protectiveness emanating off Charles' back, the kind of which that Erik had only ever felt coming from him when Raven had been harassed by some bigoted frat boys. To realise that Charles felt that way about _him_ too was flattering, to say the least.

"… You still shouldn't have kept it from me," Erik repeated, feeling his will to fight dissipating. Charles still refused to face him though, and Erik had to fight the sudden urge to pull on the younger man's shoulder, to _force _him to look Erik in the eye.

"Would you like to know what happened to Shaw because you _chose_ not to kill him?" Charles asked, continuing on before Erik had a chance to answer, or comment on his choice of words, "_He_ was the one imprisoned for life as the dangerous mutant. Because they had _him_, they were able to link him to several more deaths – ones that span over the past few decades, in fact."

Frowning as he considered that information, Erik turned to look at Charles' back with a suspicious look in his eye. "You knew about that how?"

And Charles seemed to understand that Erik wasn't only referring to the numerous deaths Shaw had been behind, because he shifted uncomfortably beneath his blanket-nest before he sighed heavily. "I must admit, I haven't been entirely honest with you. Shaw was, in fact, the reason why I thought it imperative Raven and I relocated here to England."

"Explain."

"Your charming friend Miss Frost, young as she was, made the mistake of telling him about Raven and myself … and you. Shaw wanted Raven, wanted her power, and, from what Frost had told him, he knew that he could control her through me, and me through you. It was all part of an elaborate plot that tell of his years, really. Because he'd been able to successfully take you under his wing, he'd thought it time to 'collect' Raven and I."

Erik's hands had clenched into fists as he listened to Charles' explanation. He was going to _kill_ that damned woman when he saw her next – As soon as he found out where she was. All of this, because she hadn't known to keep that damnable mouth of hers shut. A hand on his shoulder broke through the murderous thoughts though, and Erik looked over his shoulder to find Charles was looking at him ruefully.

It was ridiculous how relieved Erik felt at being able to actually look into those blue eyes again, and it was in that moment that Erik realised there had never been a question of when _he _would forgive Charles, but rather a question of when Charles was going to forgive him for walking away the way he had. Erik would always forgive Charles, no matter what the telepath put him through. It was just part of what came with loving the frustrating younger man.

Charles seemed to understand that he'd been forgiven though, even without needing to read Erik's mind - which Erik was sure he _hadn't_, considering he couldn't feel that presence in the back of his mind that had always told him Charles was there - because he suddenly smiled softly before he started talking again,

"Don't be mad at Frost, Erik. It was actually she who came to warn me about Shaw. I believe she'd been jealous of Shaw's fascination with Raven actually, and while her motive may have been flawed, it's thanks to her that we're all here today."

Sighing loudly as he let the idea of hunting Frost down go, Erik asked, "So, how did Shaw come to be here then?"

"Ah. That was your professor's fault actually. Though, Shaw had given him no choice in the matter - He'd threatened his daughter, and told him that if he didn't tell him where he'd sent you, he could kiss his daughter's life goodbye. Ruthless, really. I don't know _how_ you were able to stand him all those years," Charles' nose wrinkled in his disgust, and Erik found himself grinning just a little bit at the sight.

Charles cocked his head to the side as he took in the smile and chewed at his lower lip for a few seconds before blurting, "You're smiling. Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

"Hmmm," Erik hummed thoughtfully, if only to see Charles chew on his lip for a little longer, before sighing dramatically and saying, "I suppose so."

The relieved, "Oh thank heaven's," that Charles breathed at Erik's words took him by surprise, but the feel of the smaller man's arms wrapping around his neck startled him even more. Though Erik knew they'd hugged constantly when they were younger, ever since meeting again, Erik had been more wary of how much physical contact there had been between him and Charles – it felt far too intimate now, especially after the night of Charles' twenty-first and Erik had awoken with Charles wrapped around him.

Still, he hardly even hesitated before bringing a hand up to clutch at Charles' arm, prolonging the hug that small amount as a barely there smile tugged at the edges of his mouth, decidedly ignoring the suggestion of a blush on his cheeks.

And then Charles tensed slightly, his arms tightening a little before he asked with a mild pout, "... Can I have that ring back then?" and Erik was forced into surprised laughter.

"Oh no, you gave it back. Besides which, I've already returned it," Erik lied as smoothly as he was able.

The lie was _almost_ worth it, because Charles' look of absolute horror was the most amusing thing Erik had seen of late, though he was mildly disappointed by the fact that his arms withdrew from around Erik's neck.

"You did _not_," Charles was all but screeching, his eyes wide with disbelief, "Tell me that you're lying Erik, because, honestly, that was a _gift_. You had no right to take it back!"

"But you returned it Charles. What did you want me to do? Leave it sitting on the shelf as a reminder of the friendship I'd lost?" Erik sighed, trying to resist the want to laugh.

He hadn't expected Charles' eyes to suddenly cloud over as he slumped down against his pillow. Quietly, he said, "You'd never lost me Erik … I don't think you ever could," and for just a moment, Erik thought that the statement seemed too grand for the situation at hand, but he was at a loss for what else Charles could be referring to.

"I'm fucking with you Charles," he told him, his eyebrows drawn together as Charles' words kept repeating in his mind.

Erik was distracted, however, as a soft force suddenly collided with his head, and he realised that Charles had just thrown his pillow at him.

"That wasn't funny Erik!" he was snarling, and all Erik could do was smile up at him in amusement.

"_I_ thought it was," he declared, and was forced to scramble out of the way as Charles took hold of a second pillow and tossed, his mouth pulled into a scowl that simply didn't suit Charles at _all_, which somehow made it all the more endearing.

Suddenly, Erik heard a tentative '_Does this also mean I'm allowed back in your mind?_' projected to him, and Erik covered his face with a hand as he groaned loudly at the question that Charles hadn't been able to voice.

"You're incorrigible, Charles. You know that, right?"

"With this, perhaps. _Please_, Erik?"

Unable to help himself at the pleading tone that Charles was using, Erik removed his hand so that he look over at Charles, fully intending on scowling at him with disapproval. He instantly wished that he hadn't, because Charles was making use of that puppy-dog expression he'd somehow perfected, and it seemed much more potent with Charles in Erik's turtleneck. As soon as he was hit by that expression, Erik found that all he could do to acquiesce with a short nod of his head, even as his lips tightened into an unsure frown.

As soon as Erik felt Charles' cinnamon tea presence flutter at the back of his mind again though, he couldn't hold back the sigh of relief that had slipped through his teeth, and he just hoped it was soft enough that Charles hadn't caught it.

Charles' eyes were closed though, and upon opening that connection to Erik's mind again, he hummed appreciatively as if he'd just had a taste of the most exquisite hot chocolate before sighing, "Gods, I've missed the feel of you," and then his eyes jerked open and both he and Erik blushed profusely.

"Oh. Oh, that sounded – I simply meant – Oh dear," Charles was babbling, covering his face with his hands, while Erik scolded himself for allowing the image of Charles uttering those words under different circumstances to present itself.

Ever a cause of frustration to Erik, Moira chose that moment to open the door cautiously. Her eyes sweeping from Charles with his face in his hands, to glare accusingly at Erik. He could almost hear the thought _I asked you to fix him, not break him, _and Erik had to fight the urge to snarl defensively at her.

"No, no. It's not what you think Moira," Charles hastened to explain, peeking through his fingers at her. "We're fine now, this is ... something different."

"Different?" Moira repeated, an eyebrow arching as she invited herself into the room, and Charles simply nodded his head repeatedly as she sat down on the edge of the bed, still glaring at Erik suspiciously.

Erik simply rolled his eyes at her scrutiny before saying, "Forgive me Charles, but I have work to continue with," which was a complete lie. Charles lowered his hands as he fixed Erik with a look that told the metal-bender that Charles _knew_ it was a lie, but he didn't care much for spending more time in the human's presence than was absolutely necessary.

So, with a fleetingly apologetic look at Charles, Erik left the room. It was only as he overheard Moira tut and say to Charles, "Where _did_ you get that shirt from anyway?" that Erik realised he meant to ask about that too, since he had no recollection of Charles borrowing one of his turtlenecks before.

When Erik threw himself on his bed for some leisurely reading a few minutes later, he was still wearing a grin.

* * *

><p>... You surely didn't think I'd let the divorce happen, did you? I could never separate these two like that ... Not again, anyway. If I could have things my way ... The Divorce would never have happened in the movie either, but, seeing as I have no control over such things ... This is the best I can do.<p>

And I hope that you all enjoyed that - Even if you may have wanted to kill me at some point, haha!

Oh, and for anyone curious to know ... In that final scene there, in my mind, Charles wasn't wearing anything other than Erik's Turtleneck. It didn't seem appropriate for the scene to point that out though XDD


	6. That moment when everything changes

I am so, so, _so_ sorry about the long wait between this chapter and the last. I'm sure you can all understand how busy life can get when it gets close to Christmas, followed by _actual_ Christmas and then New Years. Add to all that my Step-Mum gave birth a few days after Christmas and ... Well, suffice to say I was hardly even home over the Christmas break which made it difficult to try and post this.

The point is - I'm sorry about the delay, guys. Also, thankyou to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I'm just so happy that you've all enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I really hope that this chapter was worth the wait - It was one of my favourites to write. So, I hope you thoroughly enjoy reading it =)

* * *

><p>It was only once the other students began to return to Oxford that Erik realised something small, and undefinable had changed with his and Charles' relationship. He couldn't quite figure out what it was though, since they still did everything that they used to – Charles still invaded his room practically every night, and they still spent hours huddled on Erik's bed watching movies, or TV shows, or whatever it was that Charles had decided to bring with him that night. They still played chess every Tuesday night, and they were still able to do their schoolwork in companionable silence.<p>

It was just … Perhaps it was Erik's imagination, or maybe it was simply that he was more aware of it now that Charles was wearing the threaded ring, but Charles seemed to touch Erik more than before. It was subtle, like a brush of fingers when they exchanged notes, or when they were watching movies and Charles shifted that _little _bit closer so that Erik's focus moved from the movie to the body heat he could feel radiating from the other man. There were just a lot of things that Erik decided Charles couldn't possibly be aware of.

In a lot of ways, it was driving Erik decidedly crazy – He couldn't remember having to take this many long showers since he was a teenager – but at the same time, he was making a valiant effort to ignore it, certain that Charles didn't even realise he was doing it.

There was also the fact that Erik couldn't chase away the feeling that Charles was waiting for something. It wasn't often that he felt it, but there were decidedly times – Like, when Erik would suddenly get the feeling he was being watched, and he'd look up from the chessboard to realise that Charles was watching him, a strange look in his eye, and his lips curled into a small smile – that he felt that Charles was waiting for something, felt it as surely as he could feel the metal in the room. It was just another of Charles' quirks, Erik ended up deciding though and chose to ignore it in the same way that he ignores Charles' constant presence in the back of his mind.

~X~

Erik was well aware that meeting Charles and that fight in the cafeteria had significantly lessened the hard-edge that had kept students away from him back in high school. He just hadn't realised exactly _how_ much it had lessened until February the fourteenth came around, and he opened his door that morning to see that there was a small pile of chocolates lying outside his room.

It wasn't until Erik actually picked one up curiously that he realised with horror that he was receiving Valentines chocolate. His image had been dulled to the point that people actually felt confident enough to give him _Valentines chocolate_.

Charles simply laughed at him when Erik grouched about this over breakfast.

"It's _horrible_! All these sappy letters professing love, but not a single one is brave enough to actually include who it's from – Not that it would matter because I don't even know anyone's names unless you've forced me to become acquainted with them. But that's beside the point! Not to mention, why do they all seem to think that Chocolate is the best thing to give someone? Nevermind the fact that anyone who knew me would know that I can't _stand_ sweets, what about the damage it does to ones teeth? Do they not have any regard for future effects?"

"Erik, you're thinking about this entirely too much," Charles chuckled, and the telepath was lucky that Erik was unbearably fond of him, or else he would have hit him for _daring _to laugh at his plight. "I happen to think it's a romantic notion."

For one split second, Erik was actually disappointed that he hadn't thought to get Charles something for Valentines day then – Until he remembered that he was doing his damnedest to not let Charles know how he felt about him.

"Excuse me Erik, but I've got a lecture in ten minutes I don't particularly want to be late for. _Try _not to abuse those who have the courage to tell you their feelings to your face, won't you?" Charles suggested, his tone belying his amusement at the entire thing.

Charles was already walking out of the cafeteria before Erik yelled out "Tell me that's not going to happen Charles! Please tell me that doesn't _happen_!" Charles simply looked back over his shoulder to Erik with a smile on his face, before shrugging, and Erik paled considerably before he considered simply hiding in his room for the rest of the day.

'_No hiding Erik',_ Charles thought at him, and Erik could _feel_ the amusement in his words, and he scowled as he stabbed a bit of bacon with more force than was necessary, _'That wouldn't be fair to those wanting to enjoy the day. Oh, and be wary of the girl in the mini skirt by the way. Her plan is to corner you in the stairwell and thoroughly kiss you. Amusing that they don't seem to realise that you're gay.'_  
><em><br>'Shut up Charles. This is an absolute nightmare. Thank you_ oh_ so much for the warning_'

Charles simply mentally laughed at him as Erik glared resentfully at the chair he'd been sitting in a few moments before. Erik made a point to avoid as many stairs as possible for the rest of that day.

. . .

Erik had been so focused on lamenting about his own misfortune, he'd forgotten to take into account that Charles might be going through the same treatment. This error in judgement occurred to him rather abruptly on his way from his third lecture to lunch. Or, more specifically, he was forced to come to realise this error when he stumbled upon the sight of Charles' hand being held by some random guy in the hallway.

All of the doors on that floor suddenly jerked open, much to the student's surprise. Erik didn't even realise he'd lost control, he was too busy focusing on the way that Charles was blushing slightly, focusing on the fact that Charles was actually smiling a little as he was wooed by some irritating, human. Erik was entirely too focused on the fact that someone was even _daring_ to hold Charles hand – And the one with the ring from Erik firmly on his finger, at that! – to even _care _that a few of the students were giving him bewildered stares as they rushed past.

He'd just started to march towards the two, when Charles looked over in his direction, and the way that his amused grin gave way to a wide, pleased smile managed to soothe a few of Erik's ruffled feathers. It didn't stop him from glaring at the sandy-haired guy who was still holding onto Charles' hand though. Erik fought against the want to smile maliciously as the stranger dropped Charles' hand, trying to return Erik's glare. The human failed miserably to appear threatening when he visibly flinched as Erik flashed his teeth at him though.

"Charles," Erik ground out through clenched teeth, trying to _appear_ pleasant, if only so that Charles wouldn't scold him for being rude. "I thought you were meant to be in a lecture right now."

"The teacher was curiously absent today. They said he's sick, but it's a lie, of course. He just wanted to take his sweetheart out for Valentines. You can't tell me that isn't adorable."

"Yes, yes, adorable. So, who's your friend?" Erik asked, trying – and failing – to keep the growl out of his voice and Charles looked back over to the Sandy-haired guy who was starting to look a touch offended at the way he'd been ignored, or maybe interrupted. Erik didn't really care, he just wanted the other guy to leave Charles alone.

"Oh," Charles said, blushing slightly, "This is Nick," and then his eyes turned big and apologetic, and Erik scowled as he watched. "I'm really sorry, but I can't indulge you on your offer. I'm flattered that you would ask though."

"Of course," Nick said, his tone mildly affronted and his mud-brown eyes narrowing slightly as he continued to look down at Charles. Erik was tempted to take hold of the dog tags that were hanging around his neck and tighten them, and the sole reason why he didn't was because Charles had stretched his fingers out so that they were resting on the back of Erik's hand. It was amazing, and a touch frightening, how that simple gesture was enough to calm Erik down.

"I didn't realise you were spoken for," Nick said slowly, his eyes narrowing even more as his eyes flicked down to where Charles' hand was resting against Erik's, and Erik realised that although _he _knew it was simply Charles telling him to relax, to any onlookers … Charles didn't really help that impression as he blushed a bright red at the insinuation.

"Oh. No, no, you misunderstand. That isn't why -"

"Whatever," Nick muttered, before stalking away, and Erik cocked his head with narrowed eyes. He could feel that there was metal on his shoes …

"Come on Charles, let's get lunch," he said, only partially paying attention to the man beside him as he focused his mind on the metal he could feel retreating.

As soon as Charles said, "Yes, alright," a blush still on his cheeks as he turned to head towards the cafeteria, Erik pulled the metal in Nick's shoes out from under him, allowing himself a moment of vindictive pleasure as he saw the other man fall flat on his face.

Charles, of course, looked up at him reproachfully. "That wasn't very nice Erik."

Erik simply shrugged, "He was rude to you," he said, and Charles smiled a little as he shook his head.

"What _am_ I going to do with you?" he sighed, and Erik had to bite on the inside of his cheek to stop the several inappropriate responses that came to mind.

. . .

During his next lecture though, Erik paid hardly any attention. He simply sat there, twirling his pen through his fingers, with a frown on his face.

Nick had brought a problem to the forefront of Erik's mind, one he hadn't even considered before - Somebody_ could_ potentially take Charles away from him. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind, considering Charles spent all his free time with Erik anyway. But, Charles was a caring person and had a big heart, so it was entirely possible that Charles _could_ come to fall in love with someone … Someone who wasn't Erik.

The mere thought was enough for him to gnash his teeth together. Already he wanted to kill the one who was foolish enough to try and steal Charles away, and it was simply a hypothetical scenario.

As he thought about it, Erik realised that there were often times when he'd look at the younger man and realise that Charles was blushing with a fond smile on his face, and Erik's blood turned cold at the thought. What if there _was_ someone Charles cared for and Erik simply had no idea?

Erik realised then and there that he'd been naïve if he'd thought he'd be able to get away without telling Charles the way he'd felt. A fool to think that things would have been able to continue on the way they had because, as much as Erik was terrified that Charles would decide he couldn't continue a friendship with Erik because the feelings weren't mutual … It would be more painful to simply be his friend and watch him fall in love with someone else. The very idea was one that Erik couldn't stand to consider.

With a shuddering breath, Erik promised himself that he would tell Charles soon. He just needed some time to figure out how, what he should say exactly, how _much_ he should say ... The very concept of telling Charles his little secret was enough to make Erik's heart race with anticipation, and no small amount of anxiety.

Lost in thought as he was, Erik didn't realise that the lecture had finished and that it was simply himself and one other student left in the classroom. A student that had sat there chewing at his lower lip, and watching Erik with a terrified expression on his face for the past five minutes

Sucking in a steadying breath, the dark haired man gathered enough courage to actually come to stand in front of Erik's desk. Erik didn't even react until they stuttered, "Erik? Uh, Erik Lensherr?"

Half sighing-Half growling as he was broken out of his thoughts, Erik looked up at the dark haired student with a deep scowl on his face. He was given very little chance to do much more than that though before the other student had taken advantage of the height difference and had pressed his lips to Erik's.

As for Erik, he was completely taken by surprise at the sudden assault. So much so that he simply sat there for a few seconds blinking with shock, a little startled that someone would invade his space so thoroughly. He was so caught in his surprise that Erik didn't realise somebody had come to an abrupt halt in the doorway before they ducked back out of sight.

And then Erik realised with a jolt that he was being _kissed_ by someone he didn't even _know,_ someone who definitely _wasn't_ Charles, and he wasted no time in introducing his fist to the other student's face.

"First of all," he snapped as the dark haired man looked over at Erik, licking at his split lip, "If you're gonna kiss someone, you should damn well make sure they're _interested_ first. Second, I'm _not_."

"I know that," the dark haired man muttered, and it only served to further irritate Erik, so much so that he almost punched him again.

"Why the _hell _would you do it then?" he snarled, instead.

The man simply shrugged his shoulders and said, "I had to try, and it seemed like the only time _to _try since you're always accompanied by that Xavier kid."

Erik simply looked at the other man with disgust before he snatched up his bag and stormed out of the room, fuming at the audacity of people as he went. Erik didn't even realise he was rubbing at his lips with the edge of his shirt as he went.

As soon as he stepped out of the classroom though, he felt a ring that had become all too familiar to him in recent times, and he inexplicably felt a twinge of guilt as he saw Charles standing there.

Charles' expression was clouded and his mouth a tight little frown as he looked down at his shoes, one foot actually scuffing at the floor, which Erik had never seen him do before. After a moment, Erik realised he actually looked angry, and his feeling of guilt only intensified, even though he had no reason _to_ feel guilty.

"Charles…" Erik said, unsure of what he was going to say – And really, what was there he _could _say? I'm sorry that some guy forced himself on me? That wasn't something Erik should have to apologise for.

"I … I'm not really sure what to say," Charles spoke, and his voice was some strange mix between annoyed, and upset, and it did funny things to Erik's heart.

"Why you're here when you're meant to be in class, could be a start?" Erik found himself saying, and he realised at the sudden glare that Charles shot him that his tone was actually _defensive_. Oh, buggering hell.

"I'm _here_, because I saw that you were zoning out and completely unaware of the fact that you were about to get molested. I came to try and _stop_ it," Charles snapped, drawing himself up to his full height, and a few people passing by actually started walking slower as they watched, sensing a fight. Erik was too incensed to care. Charles' tone had been accusatory, and that was entirely uncalled for, in Erik's opinion.

"Then you'd also be aware that I'd been taken by surprise," he snapped back.

"You certainly looked as though you were enjoying it!"

Erik opened his mouth to snarl about idiocy when the guy he'd punched sidled past, pausing to give Erik a wistful look, and Charles a curious glare. Charles, much to Erik's surprise, actually bared his teeth at the dark haired student before he hissed in a frosty tone, "_Leave_," and, for a change, it wasn't Erik that someone was running away from.

With raised eyebrows, he looked back down at Charles, and realised that there was more to the situation than he knew. Charles' overbright eyes something of a give away. "Charles, _what-_," he started to ask, but the shorter man cut him off.

"You really have no idea, do you Erik?" he muttered with a soft sigh, before sweeping around and walking away, leaving Erik standing there in the hallway calling out "Charles!" and feeling distinctly uncomfortable as all eyes swivelled from Charles' retreating form, to look at him instead.

Erik's cheeks flushed a little as the undeniable feeling of shame swept through him, and he growled at the onlookers before storming away in the opposite direction that Charles had gone, choosing to wander the campus instead of retreating to his room.

Somehow, Erik couldn't shake the idea that he was missing something. There was _something_ that should be obvious that he simply wasn't seeing, and it was infuriating.

~X~

In the days that followed, Charles was exceptionably irritable, to say the least.

He'd taken to glaring at whoever came near their table with surprising vehemence, even as he smiled politely at them, which was a rather unsettling combination to see. Each time that he did, Erik was caught somewhere between being proud of the fire behind that glare, and frustration because he couldn't understand _why_ Charles was suddenly glaring at everyone. It was unlike him.

Then there was also the way that, even though Charles still came to Erik's room for movie nights, he seemed to make a point to sit in the corner of the bed furthest away from where Erik had seated himself. As if that wasn't peculiar enough after months of having Charles so close he could feel his body heat, the two hardly spoke in this time. Once, it felt so awkward that Erik ended up kicking Charles out after an hour, claiming he needed sleep. Charles didn't even protest, he simply nodded and bade Erik a good night.

Everything was just _strange. _Whenever Erik tried to question him about it though, Charles would turn his newly perfected glare on _him_ before sighing, "It's nothing Erik,", and then proceeded to gather his things and leave for a class – It wasn't until the third time that this happened that Erik realised Charles had finished his classes for the day, and it just added to the whole feeling that something was wrong.

Then there were those words that Charles had said before walking away from him. _You really have no idea, do you Erik?_ They kept coming back to Erik's mind when he was least expecting them – Like when he was lying in bed at night trying to fall asleep. A task that would then be abandoned as Erik thought, and thought, trying to figure out what Charles _meant_. He would be just as clueless when the sun rose though.

By the end of the week, it was driving him absolutely mental. So much so, that Erik had complained to Azazel about it during one of the rare times when the red mutant actually made use of the room that was also his.

"It's _infuriating_," he said, pacing around the room as he spoke, "I can't even figure out what brought it on – Though I know it started after that wretched Valentines day. But outside of that … And it's just – It's not Charles, and I don't have any idea about how to fix it because he refuses to _talk _about it!"

Azazel suddenly snapped his book shut, and Erik jumped a little at the sound. In the middle of his ranting, he'd almost forgotten he was actually talking to a person. The other mutant took a deep breath before he fixed Erik with a glare that rivalled one of Erik's on a bad day, which was really saying something.

"You are quite possibly the densest person that I have ever met Lensherr. Even a _toddler_ couldn't be as clueless as you when it comes to understanding people and their reactions," Erik opened his mouth to protest, but silenced himself at the look that Azazel gave him. The red-skinned mutant leaned forward in his chair a little as he spoke, his tone soft but firm, "So, allow me to enlighten you on a little something - Charles is _jealous_," the hell demon stated.

"Pardon?" Erik asked, his eyebrow arching with scepticism.

"You heard me. He's jealous – And if you'd pay attention, it wouldn't be difficult to figure out _why,_" Azazel fixed Erik with one last glare before, very pointedly, opening his book again.

Erik perched himself on the bed with a frown on his face. Charles was … Jealous? The very idea was laughable and begged the question, what over?

Cocking his head as he thought, Erik understood that something must have happened on that nightmare of a day earlier in the week, it had been since then that Charles had been irritable after all. He'd been fine at breakfast though – Erik could only too well remember the mirth with which he'd laughed at Erik's frustration. And he'd been alright at lunch, though he had spent much of it berating Erik for tripping up that Sandy-Haired guy who's name Erik had made a point to forget.

The only other time Erik had seen Charles that day was after that incident with the guy in his mathematics class. And he _had_ seemed annoyed before Erik had even stepped out of that classroom, which meant that the only conclusion that Erik could see was that something had happened between lunch and then. Something that had upset Charles enough he'd been withdrawn and moody for the past few days.

When he took the day into account, Erik supposed that meant, in all likelihood – Erik's heart stalled a little at the realisation – Charles did in fact have someone that he cared for and something had happened with that person. It was possible that Charles had walked in on them being confessed to, or maybe Charles had professed his feelings for them and been shot down?

With a groan, Erik ran a hand through his hair. Fan-fucking-tastic. Now, not only did he want to kill some unknown person for numerous reasons, he also felt like shit at the realisation that Charles hadn't even wanted to speak to him about this. He wasn't sure if he should be feeling affronted, or relieved at that.

As he thought about it though, Charles' cryptic words made more sense if he considered this revelation – But how could Erik possibly know about Charles' feelings towards another if he'd never mentioned them before? _Charles_ was the telepath among them, not Erik.

"Come to an understanding have you?" Azazel asked.

"You could say that," Erik muttered, trying to ignore the feeling of lead settling in his stomach. Now wasn't the time to be feeling sorry for himself. Now that he realised what Charles' problem was, Erik needed to be the friend Charles thought him to be, and if that meant being there while Charles told him all about this unknown person that held his heart – Erik swallowed the lump in his throat – then that was what Erik would be. Even if it killed him a little bit inside.

So, it was with reluctance that Erik focused on the ring that Charles wore, and followed the feel of it to one of the lesser used sections of the large library that Oxford offered. There, he found Charles looking out a window, his arms folded across his stomach and his fingers tapping a rhythm against his elbow, a move that suggested at his underlying tension.

Erik didn't say anything as he leant up against the wall beside the window Charles was gazing out of. From the way that Charles' eyes flicked over towards him, and the way that Charles' presence in Erik's mind fluttered, he knew that Charles was aware the fact that he was there.

And, frankly speaking, Erik had no idea what he was meant to say in situations like this. He'd never needed to assert the fact that Charles could talk to him before – Normally, it wasn't a problem. Usually, Charles would prattle on regardless of whether Erik wanted to listen or not – So, Erik was at a complete loss about what he was supposed to say to get Charles to start talking about this particular thing, and he didn't even know whether Charles _wanted_ to talk. Frowning as he waited, Erik had to wonder, if things were starting to get confusing in his own head, how was he meant to voice them?

In the end, it was Charles who broke the silence. "Forgive me, my friend, I haven't been the best of company of late, have I?" he sighed, a rueful smile on his face as he turned that little bit to look over at Erik.

Erik simply shrugged, still unsure about what he should say – How did he go about trying to convince Charles that it was _okay _for him to talk about what was troubling him? That Erik wouldn't think any less of him for it?

The concern was momentarily driven from his mind as Charles smiled though, and the sadness behind that smile made Erik want to find the asshole who was putting Charles through this torture and beat him senseless. Charles turned back towards the window and was silent for another few moments, before he heaved another sigh and shook his head.

With a smile plastered on his face that Erik could tell was fake, he said in an equally fake-nonchalant voice, "I'm sorry Erik, but I'm feeling rather exhausted so I'm just going to go back to bed for a while. I'll stop by later tonight, alright?"

Erik wasn't entirely sure what came over him, but as Charles started to walk away, looking for all the world as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, the metal-bender's hand shot out and grasped his wrist of its own accord, tugging the smaller man to halt. Charles, naturally enough, looked over at Erik with confusion in his eyes, and, maybe it was just Erik's imagination, but he also seemed a little afraid.

Before Erik knew it, the words he'd been searching for began to tumble from his lips. "Charles, I know that I'm not the most sympathetic of people, and I know that we disagree on a lot of things, but that doesn't mean you can't talk to me about the things that trouble you. Even if I don't like it, and even if it pisses me off, I'll still listen, no matter what it is - I love you too much to be able to stand seeing you like this anymore. So, please, tell me what's bothering you – If only so I can find the asshole responsible and hurt them in ways you couldn't imagine."

Erik was too busy looking at Charles earnestly to realise the words he'd just said, he was much too busy thinking about the different ways he was going to punish whoever dared to upset Charles this much, and in some part of his mind, he was realising that this was probably how Moira had felt earlier in the year.

It was only when Charles' mouth popped open into a small 'o' of surprise, when those expressive blue eyes widened and a blush spread across Charles' cheeks that Erik thought to wonder what it was that he'd said.

"Say that again?" Charles requested, a little breathlessly as he took a step towards Erik, and Erik frowned as he thought back through he'd just said.

"Er – I'll maim whoever has hurt you?"

Charles smiled with amusement, and if Erik hadn't been so relieved to see Charles smiling _properly_ again, he might be worried about the influence he'd had on the younger man.

"Before that."

"Oh, well – Um. … You can talk to me about anything?" Erik's eyebrow arched with confusion. Confusion that simply increased as Charles chuckled softly and took another step towards Erik, standing close enough now that the toes of their shoes were brushing.

"Not that either. The part in between," and Charles' voice was still a little breathless, which would have concerned Erik if it weren't for the fact that Charles was genuinely smiling as he looked up at the older man, his blue eyes positively sparkling in the afternoon sun.

It took Erik a few seconds before he realised what Charles was talking about, and when he did, he blushed a little bit. He hadn't even realised that had slipped in there.

"I love you," he said softly, and Charles' grin widened into an absolutely blinding smile, which contradicted Erik's expectations of being told 'I'm sorry my friend, I can't return your feelings' so thoroughly, he was momentarily thrown.

Erik only had a second to wonder about the vastly different reaction, before Charles had taken hold of Erik's face between his palms, levered himself up onto his tip toes and placed a soft, lingering kiss to still mystified man's lips.

"What took you so long?" Charles breathed, still so close that Erik could feel his breath against his mouth, and the question was what finally broke him out of his stupor.

Erik practically growled as he pulled Charles' hips flush against his own – something that earned him a startled squeak - before claiming those red lips and thoroughly kissing the other man, one hand coming up to thread in those chocolate locks as Charles' arms wound tightly around his neck.

"Fucking hell Charles. You should have said something," Erik hissed between feverish kisses.

"I could say the same to you," Charles retorted before pushing up against Erik with enough force that the two of them were driven into the wall behind. Neither one particularly cared though as Charles' arms shifted so that he could tangle his hands in Erik's hair, while Erik's hands slid down that little bit lower to gain a better hold.

"Erik. Room. Now," Charles ground out, only to suck on Erik's lower lip provocatively, and it took all of Erik's willpower to not moan at the feel - at the _suggestion _that had just fallen from Charles' kiss-swollen mouth as he looked up at Erik from beneath his lashes.

As it was, he was sure they looked a sight as they fled the library, neither of them caring enough that they'd run with their hands twined. After months upon months of _craving_ the man that was running along with him, his mouth an overjoyed smile as he did so, the _last_ thing Erik could care about was what the other students thought as they watched the two men bolt past.

* * *

><p>*sigh* I had so much fun writing this Chapter, I really did. So - I hope that you guys also enjoyed it, and that the abundance of fluff was worth the wait!<p>

For anyone who might be wondering, you needn't worry - I'm not going to leave it there. There is one more Chapter after this, and a little something extra if I can bully my brain into actually working.


	7. Perfect in it's imperfection

So, here we are guys - The final chapter. Before I let you devour it though, I just want to say a huge thankyou to everyone who's read, commented and favourited the story. It means more to me than I can say that you all enjoyed it - And, on that cheerful note ... I'll just let you get to it, shall I?

* * *

><p>When Erik came to the next morning, he couldn't help but smile fondly as he felt the weight of Charles snuggled into his chest. Even if he was overheating, and even if his arm was numb, Erik couldn't think of a better way to wake up than with a still sleeping Charles in his arms. It was with nigh reverence that Erik's hand began to trail lazily up and down Charles' – still bare – back, and he had to fight against the urge to bury his nose in the messy hair nestled beneath his chin. He managed to resist, but just barely.<p>

Somehow, Erik couldn't believe that this wasn't a dream - It seemed like it should be. Not only had Charles accepted the way that Erik felt about him, last night had happened, and now Charles was half lying on Erik as he slept. Just to be sure, Erik bit into his lip.

"Bloody fuck. Ow," he hissed under his breath. Definitely not a dream. That's good to know.

Soft chuckling drew his attention to the man lying half atop him, and his hand stopped tracing patterns for just a moment before Charles whined, "Don't stop. That feels wonderful."

"I _thought_ you were still asleep," Erik remarked, resuming his pattern tracing.

"I was," Charles murmured, burying his head further into Erik's chest, "Until _someone_ attempted to chew his own lip off."

Erik chose not to dignify that with a response, quite content to lie in bed with one hand memorising the contours of Charles' back, listening to the sound of his only-partially awake breathing. Or, at least, he was, until human needs called him.

"Do you plan on disappearing if I use the bathroom Charles?" Erik asked, recalling the last time he'd left a sleeping Charles in his bed, he'd come back out of that room to find an empty bed and a hastily scrawled apology.

"Not this time," Charles yawned, nuzzling into the pillow Erik had just vacated.

Erik still did all that he needed to as quick as he was able, and was completely unable to help the smile that stretched his lips as he leant in the doorway of the bathroom, drinking in the sight of Charles still sprawled in his bed, the other's sleepy blue eyes looking over at him fondly. Erik didn't even hesitate to crawl back into the bed as Charles held an inviting hand out to him, sighing softly as he rested his head atop Erik's chest again, and Erik's hand automatically returned to tracing patterns in his back.

"Why _did _you leave that time?" Erik asked after a few moments of peace, and cocked his eyebrow as he felt Charles tense.

"That was – Er…"

"Charles," Erik warned, his hand stalling in its trailing.

Charles heaved a sigh before saying, "I suppose it doesn't really matter after last night," under his breath, which only served to make Erik's eyebrows rise higher. "I left because I was afraid you'd seen something."

"Like what exactly?" Erik didn't even notice that his fingers had taken to tracing patterns again, and Charles visibly relaxed at the feel of it.

"I didn't have full control that night, and I was worried that I'd projected a certain dream I'd had."

Hesitating just a moment as he thought back to that night, Erik asked, "What kind of dream, Charles?" suspicion tickling the edges of his awareness. Surely not?

The telepath blushed suddenly – Which struck Erik as both supremely odd, and ridiculously endearing, considering what they'd done the night before and the fact that Charles was still lying naked in his arms – but pursed his lips, and shook his head a little. '_I don't really want to say_' Charles thought at him, and Erik rolled his eyes.

"After everything that happened last night," he sighed, concentrating on particular moments and purposely allowing Charles to see them too.

Much to Erik's bemusement, Charles buried his head into Erik's chest as he did so, as if hiding his face would stop the images. "Yes, it was something like that," he mumbled, and Erik lay there blinking for just a moment, before he snorted with disbelief.

"You've got to be kidding."

Completely misunderstanding, Charles perched himself up on his elbows and fixed Erik was a mildly affronted look, "I couldn't exactly help it Erik, it was a _dream_. And I had been sleeping in your bed that night – Not that I managed to sleep much for that exact reason and –"

Sliding his hand into the hair at the base of Charles' neck, Erik tugged the other man back down to him and effectively stopped his rant by stealing a kiss, something Charles actually hummed, "Thankyou" to, his mouth curled into a soft smile as he looked down at Erik.

"I hadn't been making fun of you Charles," Erik clarified, "I'd thought it had been _my_ dream."

"Oh," Charles breathed, leaning down to press his lips to Erik's briefly. "That's alright then," and then he looked over at the clock and sighed. "We really ought to be getting to class Erik," though Charles followed this up by kissing Erik again, a little longer this time.

"Mmm, probably." Erik's hand began to trail a little lower with each stroke of whichever pattern he'd taken to running up and down Charles' back, his lips searching for that particular spot on the side of Charles' throat that had elicited delightful noises from him the night before.

"Erik," Charles whispered, and Erik could hear the warning in it, but didn't particularly care as he dragged his teeth across Charles' adam's apple. For all the warning Charles had tried to imbue in that word, Erik had also heard the growing desire behind it.

"Yes, Charles?"

"Class," the other man repeated, and Erik smirked at the breathlessness in his voice. At the fact that, for all of Charles' good intentions, he had still shifted so that he was straddling Erik's hips as Erik ravished his neck.

"Indeed."

As Erik ghosted his hands up along the back of Charles' thighs, he couldn't help but grin with victory as Charles hissed "Fuck it," before he tilted Erik's head back by taking hold of his hair, and firmly melded their lips together. _'You're a horrible influence,_' he admonished, even as his tongue sought out Erik's.

Neither of them managed to get to a single lecture until after lunch, and Erik smirked to himself as Charles reluctantly left to go to his class. He wondered if Charles realised that Erik had left a noticeable mark just above his collar-line.

When he received a horrified _'Erik!'_not five minutes later, Erik couldn't help but smirk down at his notes. Apparently, he hadn't.

~X~

Erik had never cared for labels, and so it didn't occur to him to give the new direction his relationship with Charles had taken a name. He hadn't felt that it was necessary. It wasn't until Erik overheard the other students theorising that he realised that maybe this was a time when a label was needed – if only so that things were perfectly clear.

"I just don't know Diana. They've_ always _been that way."

"This is different I tell you! There's something new there – And you can't tell me you don't think it's strange they've started walking around campus with their hands locked together -They never did _that _before."

Erik was just about to snap at the two gossiping girls to shut the hell up so that he could get some work done, when they said something actually managed to catch his attention, and he instead took a step closer to the bookcase between so that he could listen with better clarity.

"Yes, but … It's Charles and Erik. They've always been closer than was normal … Maybe this is just some new thing? Charles _looks_ like a hand-holder after all." It took all of Erik's self control to not scoff at the hope in the girls voice.

"There is no possible way that you actually believe that. I know that you've got a crush on Erik, so I'm sure you're thinking of every possible excuse but … There's no way around this one, Lisa. There's something _special _between Charles and Erik."

"Jeez Diana. That's a little harsh," the Lisa girl muttered, and Erik was just about to walk away thinking he'd heard all they had worth listening to, when she blurted. "You really think they're together-together though? Like, boyfriends? From what Jessica says about Charles' senior years in school, he was more than a little promiscuous."

Erik's nose flared at _that_ little bit of information. Charles had never mentioned he'd had a reputation before. Thinking on it, Erik realised that he didn't know much about Charles' school life before Oxford at all, and that was something he intended on remedying - Especially if there were things like Charles' promiscuity that he wasn't aware of.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the first girls' voice. "I _think_ so. Who can say for sure though. I certainly hadn't imagined Erik being gay but …"

And that was the point that Erik rolled his eyes, closed his book, and walked away, deciding that he'd gleaned as much information from listening in to _that _conversation as was possible.

As Erik made his way to his room, he couldn't stop thinking about the concept of a Charles that slept around enough to earn a reputation, and frowned as he considered the implications – Was this not 'special' to Charles if that was the case? Was Erik just another notch on his bedpost? It wasn't as though they'd spoken about it and agreed they were 'together' after all, they had simply been sleeping together. And it was true that Charles and he had taken to walking around the campus with twined hands - it only seemed natural to do so after the first time Charles had slipped his hand into Erik's with a shy smile - but did that make them a 'couple', or …

Erik ran a hand down his face as he thought. Why could things never be simple when they concerned Charles? Or people in general for that matter.

He was pulled out of his reverie as a hand brushed up against his and didn't hesitate to thread their fingers together. Charles had somehow appeared beside him, and was looking up at Erik with a smile on his face. With the thoughts whirling around his head, Erik wasn't sure whether he should grin back the way he normally did, or pull his hand free.

Erik ended up settling for quirking his lips in an almost smile, before continuing his path to his room, Charles' hand still twined with his.

"Something troubling you, my friend?" Charles asked, looking up at Erik with concern as he followed, the content smile fading and giving way to a worried frown.

Ah – and there it was. 'My friend' Charles had said, and Erik found that term was simply unacceptable at this point.

"'My friend'?" Erik repeated, the question coming out as a growl, and Charles sensed that something wasn't right because his eyebrows drew together, and he tightened his grip on Erik's hand enough that they stopped walking.

"Erik?"

"What does this," and Erik raised their still joined hands so that Charles knew exactly what Erik was referring to, "mean to you Charles? Because, I have to admit, 'my friend' wasn't what I had in mind after everything that has happened this past week."

"Of course that isn't – I didn't think we needed to - … What brought _this _on?" Charles spluttered, his cheeks flushing with indignation.

"Why don't you just take a look for yourself?" Erik sighed, and Charles hesitantly raised his fingers to his temple, his mouth pulled into an uncertain frown as he did so.

As he listened to the conversation Erik had overheard, Charles' brows drew together as he took in not only the words the girls had spoken, but Erik's musings about it as well. Once he'd finished, Charles pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"People and their damnable need to gossip," he sighed, and Erik raised an expectant eyebrow at him. "What do you want me to say Erik? Yes, I slept around in my senior years – You knew that I'd been no virgin the first time we were together."

"That, actually, isn't the part that bothers me," Well, not much. Maybe a little bit … But not because he thought any less of Charles for it - it was because he now had an undefined amount of people to be a little jealous of. Charles must have understood that, because he briefly smiled up at Erik with amusement, before that faded and was replaced with a troubled frown.

"It didn't even occur to me that we would need to clarify what we were."

Had it not been for those girls gossiping, Erik wouldn't have thought it necessary either. But, now, he wasn't so sure – and maybe he needed to hear it, if only so that he knew with infallible certainty that the two of them wanted the same thing.

Charles simply looked up at Erik with wide eyes as he brought his free hand up and cupped Erik's cheek, his thumb trailing along the skin there tenderly. Erik resolutely swore that he did _not_ turn his head into that touch – Or, well, maybe he did, but he would still deny that he had, even to Charles. Slowly, Charles stretched up on his toes and brushed his lips against Erik's in a feather-light kiss, and Erik's hand automatically curled around the smaller man's waist.

Pulling back just barely, still close enough that that their lips were _just_ touching, Charles sighed, "Oh Erik. You mean so much more to me than a 'notch on a bedpost' – I'd thought that was obvious."

"That isn't what I'm asking Charles." _Even if it is good to know_.

"Of course it isn't," Charles said, resting his forehead against Erik's as he shifted his hand around so that it threaded through the hairs at the back of Erik's neck. His other was still holding onto Erik's tightly. "But it seems so juvenile to say 'Erik, we're boyfriends aren't we?'"

"And is that what we are Charles?"

If it weren't for the fact that his heart was pounding annoyingly hard in his chest, Erik might have found the way that Charles blushed and buried his head into the crook of Erik's shoulder amusing. As it was, he was a touch too nervous about the answer to fully appreciate the reaction.

"Is – Is that what you want, Erik?"

Erik rolled his eyes, before scoffing "And you'd thought _you_ were obvious. I'd have thought that _I_ was even more so." Charles didn't look up from his hiding spot against Erik's neck though, and for the first time Erik realised that maybe Charles wasn't as all-knowing as he liked to seem.

Tentatively, Erik took hold of Charles' chin and lifted it so that the other man was forced to look him in the eye. It was a little surprising and a touch disconcerting to see the way that Charles' eyes were clouded with anxiety, which was precisely why Erik soldiered through his pounding heart to say, quite clearly, "Of course that's what I want Charles. Anything else is simply unacceptable."

The way that Charles beams up at him with a blinding smile before he literally launches himself at Erik, his arms wrapping tightly around the taller man's neck, makes Erik wonder why they even allowed things to go unspoken between them at all. "Honestly Charles, do you think I tell _everyone_ that I love them and then proceed to fuck them?" The fact that Erik had never told anyone that he loved them before was completely beside the point.

"Of course not – Though I really wish you'd stop calling it that. We _make love_, not _fuck,_" Charles mutters, and Erik can't help the chuckle that works its way up his throat at the decided pout in Charles' tone.

"That certainly isn't what you were saying last night," Erik breathes into Charles' ear, his mouth pulling into a lewd smirk as the sound of Charles' moans floats around his mind. And then Erik frowns as something occurs to him. "Charles, you _do_ realise that I haven't got the faintest idea of how to be someone's 'boyfriend', right?"

Charles pulls back to give Erik a glare, before saying, "First of all, you're not just 'someone's' boyfriend – You're _my _boyfriend, which is infinitely worse, I'm afraid." If it weren't for the brief quirk of Charles' lips that gave away the fact that he was joking, Erik might have actually been worried about what he'd gotten himself into. Or, he would have been, if the possessive growl in Charles' voice wasn't inspiring Erik to consider pinning the smaller man's body against the wall and doing unspeakable things to him.

"It means, "Charles continued, "that if you show even the _slightest_ amount of interest in someone else, I'll know, and there's no way for you to hide things from me. I'm an absolute _nightmare_ when I'm sick, and I'll fully expect you to take care of me and pander to my every whim. I hog the blanket, and I absolutely loathe mornings. And, you'll have to deal with overly protective sisters that will castrate you without hesitation should you ever break my heart," Erik actually flinched at this last statement, because if the scathing look Raven had given him the first day she'd seen Erik walking around with Charles' hand in his was any indication, Charles was _not_ joking with that last one.

And then, Charles smiled fondly before he raised himself up and pressed his lips to Erik's briefly, "Aside from that, the only difference between before and now, is that we get to make out."

"I think I can handle that," Erik muttered, tugging Charles tighter against him as he captured his lips in a more heated kiss.

Much to Erik's chagrin, the telepath pulled back abruptly, regarded Erik with eyes that were a shade darker than usual and began to walk away, keeping his hold on Erik's hand so that he was forced to follow.

"Where are we going Charles?" Erik sighed, even as he allowed himself to be lead out of the secluded hallway.

Charles grinned over at him mischievously before he told Erik, "To practise being boyfriends, of course." Erik decided that he saw no reason to object to that – That Electrical theory thesis could wait another hour or two. Or maybe a day … He'd get it done _later_. Right now, he had boyfriend-like things to do that took precedence.

~X~

He can't seem to drag his eyes away from the clock, which is more than a little frustrating. Erik has an exam tomorrow, and he really ought to be sleeping so that his mind is alert for the exam – Even if he _has_ found all other exams so far exceedingly simple – but instead, Erik is watching the clock as it counts down the minutes.

It's twenty past two, and Charles is still out. Somebody that Charles knew had been throwing a party, and Erik had pointedly refused to go, seeing as he didn't know the person and simply couldn't be bothered with dealing with the inane antics of drunken humans.

That, of course, hadn't stopped Charles from going, and he was _still_ out, and Erik scowled into the darkness as he remembered how flirty Charles got when he was drunk. Although Erik trusted Charles to know that he wasn't fool enough to actually _do_ anything, even the _idea_ of him flirting and having others flirt _back_ was enough to make Erik lay there, grinding his teeth as he watched the time pass by.

At twenty to three, the sense of a key entering his lock made Erik hastily roll over so that his back was facing the door, determined to at least _pretend_ that he was asleep - He wasn't about to let Charles know that while he'd been out partying, Erik had laid in bed waiting for him. That was just ridiculous – Erik Lensherr did not _wait _for his boyfriend to return as if he were some kind of puppy.

Arms slid around his waist as a chuckle reverberated around his mind and Charles' voice told him, '_I know that you're awake Erik.'_  
><em> '<br>And you really ought to learn how to control yourself better when you're smashed'_  
><em><br>'I'm not smashed, just a little tipsy… Or drunk, not quite sure which of the two'_

Erik could feel Charles' nose brushing along the side of his neck, could feel his breath ghosting across the skin there, and sighed a little as the younger man pushed a cold leg in between Erik's, apparently attempting to wrap himself around Erik so completely that it was like he was trying to merge their bodies into one. And Erik absolutely did not find it relieving to know that, even when drunk, Charles wanted him so entirely. He just happened to sleep better when Charles was beside him.

_'Liar_,' Charles said, his mental voice a mere whisper with Charles border on sleep the way that he was.

"Go to sleep Charles," Erik sighed, his hand coming up to twine with Charles' at his hip of its own accord.

"Yes Erik," Charles breathed, and then, unexpectedly, added, "Love you."

Erik froze at the sound of those words, blinking a few times with surprise. Although he was aware that Charles cared for him – The fact that they were a few months into their relationship despite the heated arguments they still had was a testament to that – and although Erik knew that Charles knew that _he_ loved him, Charles had never actually said those words to him before, and it was … Startling, in a way, because the last person to tell him that they loved him was his mother.

_'I'd thought you were aware that I did though' _Charles' mental-voice was a little more alert now, so Erik didn't feel guilty for rolling over and pinning Charles to the bed, his eyes looking up at Erik with bemusement.

"Knowing it, and _hearing _it are completely different things," Erik said as he ducked down to kiss the corners of Charles' mouth. Charles' arms wound around Erik's waist as he shifted so that the next kiss Erik had meant for his nose ended up finding Charles' lips.

"I love you," Charles pulled back to tell him, one hand running up Erik's back to thread through his hair, holding Erik in place with a firm grip as he looked up at him. "I've loved you since before I can remember."

Erik's only response was to kiss Charles with more force than before, more passion, trying to will his awe into that kiss. Charles seemed to understand, because Erik could feel that his lips had curled into a smile as he pressed himself up into Erik insistently, one leg shifting to curl around his hip.

In some distant part of his mind, Erik wondered if Charles was aware that Erik had been in love with him since they had been children. As a breathy moan trembled from Charles' lips though, Erik decided he had more important things to be concentrating on at that point in time.

~X~

In some rational part of his mind, Erik isn't particularly surprised when he notices the recognisable figure of Emma Frost sashaying around the hallways of Oxford – Shaw managed to find his way to England, so it stood to reason that Emma would follow shortly after. That doesn't mean that he's any less infuriated when he spots her though, and it takes all of his self control to not pin her to the wall by her throat. He's too busy focusing on her to notice the way that the nearby tap suddenly curls in on itself.

This time last year, Erik wouldn't have cared if she'd found him – Although Emma had always been an irritation, it was Shaw that he'd been trying to cut ties with. Now, however, armed with the knowledge that it was entirely because of her inability to keep her stolen knowledge to herself Shaw came to yearn for Raven – or, more specifically, her power - Charles had been forced to re-locate, and because of _her_ his mother had been murdered in cold blood … Well, with all that considered, Erik certainly wasn't as dismissive about her reappearance as he may have been before.

Erik may have promised Charles that he wouldn't seek her out for vengeance, but that didn't mean he was going to leave her alone if she was fool enough to appear before him again. And since Charles was away on a day trip to some laboratory, it meant that Erik wasn't being scolded for his violent intentions.

Before Erik could even pull a shred of metal towards him though, Emma cocked her head and fixed him with an irritated glare. "Erik, honey, you really need to learn to not _think_ so loud. I see that you're as melodramatic as ever, however."

"Emma," Erik snarled, her nonchalant attitude only serving to further his anger. Not for the first time, Erik wished that the infernal woman actually wore jewellery – A necklace to pull on would have been _marvellous _just then.

"Yes, yes, you're highly affronted because a younger and naïve me tried to get into Shaw's pants by telling him about some powerful mutants nearby. _Do_ save it darling. Can we skip the violence I know you crave? I just got a manicure and would really rather not render it pointless to have done so."

"How many times must I tell you to stay the fuck _out of_ my head?"

Emma simply shrugged a delicate shoulder, completely unrepentant, before she threw her head back and laughed, the sight of which startled Erik enough that he temporarily forgot about his want to main the woman before him. Erik wasn't sure what he mistrusted more – A cold and unfeeling Emma, or an Emma that seemed to have a weight lifted from her shoulders.

"Oh, love," she said with a smile, before she continued to saunter out into the courtyard, Erik following her warily, "It's hard to do so when you're practically _yelling _them to me. By the way, I'm glad to see that the telepath and his shape shifting sister are doing well."

Before Erik had even stopped to think about it, he pulled the screws out of a bench and held them at Emma's throat, his eyes blazing as he looked at her. How _dare _she mention Charles so callously?

"Chill the fuck out would you?" Emma snapped, and Erik begrudgingly respected the way she didn't even flinch as the points dug into her flesh, knowing full well that she could shift into her diamond form if she was worried about the damage Erik _could _cause her as long as she held onto her human skin.

Narrowing his eyes, Erik pushed the screws in with a little more force, and felt a stab of vindictive pleasure when a small trickle of blood trailed out from one of them. "What do you _want_ Emma?" he growled, not even caring that his behaviour was earning startled gasps from the few students who had thought to soak up the sun while they had a chance. They all hurriedly snatched at their belongings and darted away, casting furtive glances in Erik and Emma's direction, and Erik knew that Charles would be upset when he found out about this, but he didn't care right then.

"Want?" Emma repeated, her perfectly plucked eyebrows rising with surprise, "Must I want something to decide to check up on you?"

"When it was never as though we were the closest of friends – Yes," was what Erik said. What he meant was _When you're going to comment about Charles' well being and make me get defensive, yes._

"I'm thoroughly offended Erik. Here I am, at Oxford, entirely because I could feel your presence and you accuse me of threatening your Telepath," Emma sighed heavily as though she had been grievously wounded, but Erik just continued to glare at her, all too resistant to her theatrical nature after the years he'd been forced to endure it. She seemed to understand this too, because with a huff, she said, "Fine. I was concerned and wanted to make sure you were actually alive after Shaw came hunting you down – Is that reason enough?"

"I still find that highly unlikely."

"Believe what you want Erik, it's the truth. Now, kindly remove these screws from my neck before I'm forced to get nasty."

Hesitantly, Erik did as he was asked and returned the screws to their proper place. He still watched Emma with narrowed eyes though, highly mistrusting of the woman who had been Shaw's right-hand man for so many years.

"Oh please," Emma groaned as she seated herself on the nearest bench, even though she turned her nose up at it initially. "I was as much a pawn to him as you were - It just took me far too long to realise that. Some use telepathy is when you can't even pick up something like _that_. It's like emotions," and Emma was suddenly looking up at Erik with a piercing gaze, "Although you can see someone's memories, and hear their thoughts, you can't tell what their emotions at the time were."

Recognising the signs of Emma fishing for information, Erik sighed as he allowed himself to fall onto the bench seat opposite the blonde. "Where are you going with this Emma?"

"Are you happy, Erik?" she asked, apparently deciding to forego subtlety entirely.

Erik simply blinked over at the woman uncertainly before saying, "I'm sorry?" positive that he had misheard her question. In all the time that Erik had known her, Emma had been entirely self-serving, so for her to suddenly seem to care about his happiness was strange, to say the least … But, if the woman's words were to be believed, she'd been concerned about his fate after the encounter with Shaw so, who could say. Perhaps this Shaw-less Emma wasn't quite so selfish? Erik almost snorted aloud at the unlikeliness.

If Emma was listening to Erik's thoughts, she paid them no mind as she repeated, slowly, accentuating each syllable "Are you _happy_? You _are_ aware of what it means to be happy, aren't you, love? I want to know if you are."

Oh. He hadn't misheard her then, and Erik's mouth tugged into a frown as he considered the question. He'd never given something like 'Happiness' a thought before – The constant struggle to be 'happy' was one that Erik had never cared for, mainly because as long as people left him alone, he had been. But then Charles returned to his life and …

No one could say that things were 'perfect' between Charles and himself now that they were in a relationship – They still fought, often. The most heated of which generally revolved around their vastly differing opinions about humans; Erik simply regarded them with disdain, while Charles seemed to have immeasurable hope for their potential. Unlike before though, their arguments almost always ended with a sudden clash of teeth and lips, which led to angry sex loud enough that Charles had taken to flooding nearby mind's with a feeling reminiscent to that of having water-logged ears.

And Erik was still highly jealous of anyone who spoke to Charles for longer than two minutes. Even if Charles stood there and held his hand throughout the entire conversation, the other student always ended up retreating from over-exposure to Erik's glare. No matter how often Charles scolded him for this, caught somewhere between amusement and frustration, Erik knew it was something that wasn't likely to change any time soon.

The fact that Moira and Charles were close friends certainly didn't mean that Erik had come to like the woman's presence, either. Even if he _was_ slowly starting to be able to appreciate the reasoning behind her barbed comments – She cared for Charles, and Erik was being forced to grudgingly admire and respect exactly _how _much she cared for Charles, even if it was also highly irritating at times.

No matter how much Charles tried, he still couldn't convince Erik to be more sociable either. This, of course, meant that there were often nights where Erik would hide in his dorm room and pretend to not be waiting for Charles. Nights where he would sit there, staring at his text book without taking in a single word and wonder if that night would be the one where Charles would realise that he could do so much better than someone as volatile, and unapproachable as Erik. Charles always crept into the room in the early hours of the morning, however, and only too readily snuggled his cold self into Erik's back, which instantly melted away Erik's fears and concerns, Charles sleepily admonishing him for it each and every time without fail.

And, as Erik thought about it, images of Charles flashed through his mind – A collage of those unbearably bright, trusting eyes. Snapshots of warm and tender smiles, of knowing smirks, of amused grins, of kiss-swollen lips. A million flashes of Charles, and it was all Charles, Charles, Charles, and Erik was smiling to himself completely unable to help himself.

No. Things were not 'perfect' with Charles, and maybe they never would be, but they were absolutely perfect in their imperfection, and Erik couldn't be happier with that. The answer to Emma's question was so startlingly obvious, it almost took Erik's breath away.

"Yes," he told Emma, meeting her still piercing gaze with a defiant one of his own. Erik even raised his chin challengingly as she arched an eyebrow cynically at the declaration. "I'm happy, Emma. Happier than I ever dreamed I would be in fact."

"Is that so? I'm glad to hear that," she said, and Erik was momentarily stunned by the amount of sincerity in her voice. Then, her eyes flicked over to the archway leading into Oxford's entrance hall. "Just to be clear, I wasn't mind-fucking him. Apparently the 'fucking' is entirely your job now, darling."

The statement itself seemed to come completely out of nowhere, until Erik realised that he could feel a familiar shape of metal standing in the doorway. A glance over revealed an astonished, blushing Charles, presumably from Emma's crass words.

As soon as Charles' eyes met his, Erik felt his lips curl into a smile, and it simply drove his revelation further home. Without realising it, Erik projected an impatient thought in Charles' direction, and Charles hesitated only a moment before walking into the small courtyard, eyeing Emma cautiously as he settled beside Erik, subconsciously twining their hands together as he did so.

"I'd ask who you were, but I'm already well aware," Charles said, looking over at Emma with narrowed eyes, and Erik was amused to hear the thinly-veiled suspicion in his tone.

Apparently Emma was too, because, again taking Erik by surprise, she threw her head back and laughed. "Oh darling, you are misunderstanding entirely. I have to say though, it amuses me to no end that you actually respect his desire that you keep out of his mind – It certainly never stopped me."

"Yes, well, one could say that comes down to a difference in values," Charles countered, his lips stretching into a fake, and somehow menacing, smile. Emma simply grinned in return, Erik watching the display with vague interest.

After a few moments, Charles visibly relaxed and Emma shrugged, leaving Erik to wonder what mental debate he'd just missed out on, but figured that Charles would tell him later if he was meant to know. For now, he was rather content simply burying his nose in Charles' hair as the younger man leant against him, even if Emma was looking at them with fascination.

"Well then," Emma said after a moment, standing up and dusting off the back of her skirt meticulously. "I can't sit around here all day – Watching the two of you is making me nauseous. Erik, it was good to see you again, and to meet you, Charles," and with one more nod in their direction, she sauntered back the way she'd come.

Erik didn't even bother looking up from his position to watch her go, opting instead to simply grunt a "Likewise," in her general direction. Much to Erik's surprise, Charles simply said a dismissive "Goodbye, Emma," and didn't insist on walking her out, as he seemed to do with almost everyone else they knew.

Before the sound of Emma's clicking heels had faded, Charles shifted so that he was sitting in Erik's lap, and sighed contentedly as he buried his head into Erik's chest. "That was strange," he muttered, and Erik hummed his agreement.

Charles was silent for a moment, and then, he says, "As much as I can't say that I agreed with her … I'm almost glad she did what she did." Erik pulled back to give Charles an incredulous stare, which Charles instantly pouted at before hastening to continue, "I simply mean that, if it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't have come here - _You _wouldn't have come here - and we might not have met again." Erik frowned as he thought about that, and Charles chewed at his lower lip before adding, "My point is, I can't imagine a future without you in my life – And I don't even want to try."

Maybe it's the words, or maybe it's the way that Charles blushes shyly after saying this, but Erik feels that the only adequate response is to tilt Charles' face up so that he's looking up into Erik's. He trails his knuckles down Charles' cheek reverently, and Charles' eyelids flutter shut at the feeling before Erik brings their lips together in a slow and languid kiss.

~X~

At the age of thirty three, Erik Lensherr finally manages to return to Germany for the first time since he left it when he was a child. Somewhere deep in his mind, he'd always told himself that the reason he never felt at "home" in New York, Europe, or England was because Germany was, surely, home.

As he wanders through the streets of Düsseldorf though, Erik feels absolutely no connection to the ground beneath his feet. He feels no sudden camaraderie with the strangers walking past him, even if he does deign to greet the few that acknowledge him. He feels nothing at all like his ten year old self had believed he would and everything is _wrong_.

Erik has returned to the airport and is changing his ticket, fully intending to be _home_ within the next twenty four hours. Now that he's realised where "home" is, Erik doesn't intend on leaving again.

. . .

The house is dark when the cab pulls up outside, but that's to be expected considering the time. But then, as he continues to watch, Erik can see that, no, there is in fact a flickering lamp on in the library. The smile comes to Erik's face automatically.

Heart pounding a little as he opens the door and abandons his suitcase in the hallway, Erik wastes no time in heading towards the library, taking care to tread quietly as he passes the kid's rooms.

Slowly, he pushes the library door open, completely unable to fight off the tender look in his eye, or the smile on his face. Quietly, Erik makes his way across the room and presses his lips to his husband's temple.

Charles jerks awake at the light touch and actually holds his book up as if he believes that will help defend himself from an attacker. As soon as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, and realises who's kneeling at his armchair, Charles smiles brightly.

"Erik!" he says delightedly, before his brows pull together with confusion. "What are you doing back? I'd thought you'd gone to Germany for a fortnight - It's only been a day!"

Erik silences Charles questions by kissing him softly. "I realised the home I'd been searching for had been here all along," he said, his hand coming up to play with the modified version of that woven ring he'd given to Charles all those years ago.

Charles simply beams down at him with that smile that lights up his whole face before he leans his forehead against Erik's, his hands looping behind Erik's neck as he does so.

The years had not been kind to them – They had broken up and gotten back together more times than Erik cared to remember. And neither of them had ended up in the professions they'd planned. Erik couldn't bring himself to regret a single thing though - The break up's had made their marriage of four years that much stronger, and he felt like he was doing some good with his life by helping Charles out in his school for gifted students – Which was just a polite way of saying people like them.

"Come to bed Charles," Erik whispered, his breath ghosting over Charles' ear, the feel of it eliciting a shiver from the other even after all this time. Before he could say even a word, Erik had picked him up – One arm winding around his back and the other settling into the crook of his knees. Charles' lips spread into a smile as they brushed against Erik's, his arms still twined around Erik's neck.

"Welcome home, love," he whispered before tugging Erik into a proper kiss.

_Yeah, I'm home, _Erik thought, and he was absolutely astounded it took him so long to realise that, as long as Charles was there, he would be.

* * *

><p>And that is it. That is the end. I sincerely hope that you all liked it - It was so fluffy I gave myself cavities while writing it, haha!<p>

. I honestly did not mean for this to end up being so long - This fic was initially meant to be a brief one-shot for my good friend Ile ... As I started writing though it kinda ... Spiralled out of control though. Not that I'm complaining, since I did rather enjoy writing it!

Once again, I just wanted to say thankyou so much to everyone who reviewed, favourited, or simply read as I was posting - It made me happier than you can possibly imagine to know that you were enjoying the story, and I hope that it managed to live up to your expectations.  
>Just, thankyou all so much for reading and staying with me for my first Cherik fic - Hopefully, it won't be the last either.<p>

Big hugs to you all!


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